A Child Called Draco By Severus Snape
by LadyLilyMalfoy
Summary: The story of Draco, Severus and Lucius, and all the complications they cause one another. A pre-hogwarts fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary;**

Draco Malfoy; A lonely little boy who doesn't talk or cry. His father is at the end of his tether and his mother just doesn't seem to care.

Severus Snape; The introvert, cynical professor who finds companionship in his best friend's son.

Together, they form a friendship that will be tested to the extreme.

Can they both come through it unharmed?

**_

* * *

_**

**_Prologue_**

_**Concrete Angel; Martina McBride**_

_**He walks to school with a lunch he packed  
Nobody knows what he's holding back;  
Wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday,  
he hides the bruises with the linen and lace;  
oh **_

The teachers wonder but they don't ask,  
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask;  
Bearing the burden of a secret storm, sometimes he wishes he was never born;  
Through the wind and the rain,  
he stands hard as a stone in a world that he can't rise above;  
But his dreams give him wings and he flies to a place where he's loved.

Concrete Angel

Somebody cries in the middle of the night,  
The neighbours hear but they turn out the lights;  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,  
When morning comes it will be too late.

Through the wind and the rain,  
he stands hard as a stone in a world that he can't rise above;  
But his dreams give him wings and he flies to a place where he's loved.

Concrete Angel

A statue stands in a shaded place,  
An angel boy with an upturned face;  
his name is written on a polished rock,  
A broken heart that the world forgot.

Through the wind and the rain,  
he stands hard as a stone in a world that he can't rise above;  
But his dreams give him wings and he flies to a place where he's loved.

Concrete Angel

* * *

_I am sitting at my desk, the quill in my hand is poised to write, but I am hesitant to begin. I have been thinking of doing this for quite some time now, sorting through everything in my head, yet still I worry whether I shall miss anything, get a particular detail wrong, romanticise a certain part or tell of things that didn't happen._

_For my part I promise to try and do the best job I can, especially considering that I rarely write for recreational purposes and am some what a novice when it comes to such things, but you must forgive me if you come across something that doesn't make sense. _

_I write this as a memoir, as a parallel story to that of Harry Potter, the boy who everyone knows about, the child who was raised by muggles in terrible conditions and still seemed to come through unscathed. His story is a fairy tale, where good vanquishes evil and they live happily ever after. The problem with such a tale is that one forgets about the others; the children that were not so lucky and their monsters are still crouched under the bed, waiting to spring. They become compassionate only to the heroes, the ones that have escaped. But it's the silent children who carry the biggest burden, for no one knows about them. People take their silence to mean, 'It's okay. Everything's fine. I don't need you/' It is true that these children are strong, they steel themselves and are able to take whatever is thrown at them. But does that mean that it still doesn't hurt?_

_These children are my Slytherins, ordinary little kids who have been so hardened by life already that to the outside world- to those who have never known such a life- they seem introvert and unsociable, giving them the reputation of being horrible, sneaky little brats who appear to take joy in bullying those weaker than them._

_And perhaps, that is true. Perhaps it is true also that I favour my Slytherins above the others. But why shouldn't I? Why should they get the attention that they missed out on before? Why shouldn't they have the same chances of survival as everyone else? _

_True, I am sure that there are children in other houses who have come from poor backgrounds, but they do not have the disadvantage of A) Being in a disreputable house, which makes them unfavourable with both teachers and peers and B) Gryffindors particularly, but also Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are generally more willing to be more open about their situation rather than keep it under lock and key like Slytherins tend to do. _

_This story is not, however, a story about the way a Slytherin's mind works. Well…maybe a little…_

_This is a story about one family, perhaps the most slytherinesque of them all, and a child called Draco; the Prince of Slytherin house and how an idealistic teacher tried to save him._


	2. Introduction

**_Introduction _**

_**Beautiful Lie; Amy Studt**_

_**There's a sadness that they don't see,  
When you come to me, with your sorrows.  
It's not enough for you to cry,  
Cause you don't know why it still hurts.  
I know we've been here a thousand times,  
With your past full of lies it's still there.  
A constant struggle to find yourself,  
But I know that I can't help at all, no.**_

_**You don't have nothing but pride, to keep you alive, yeah.  
Alive oh yeah.  
I can't say it will be fine, it's a beautiful lie,  
So please, don't leave it all up to me.**_

_**I see the way they talk at you,  
They're always trying to prove, that they are better.  
You run away cause you can't take,  
The way they make you feel.  
Another self-hate behind more doors,  
and then nobody knows that something's wrong,  
You made a cage that you cannot break,  
I try but I can't help at all.**_

_**You don't have nothing but pride, to keep you alive, yeah.  
Alive oh yeah.  
I can't say it will be fine, it's a beautiful lie,  
So please, don't leave it all up to me.**_

_**I can feel you,  
I can hear you,  
I could help you.  
It's a beautiful lie, lost in silence, trapped by violence, oh.**_

_**You don't have nothing but pride, to keep you alive, yeah.  
Alive oh yeah.  
I can't say it will be fine, it's a beautiful lie,  
So please, don't leave it all up to me.  
You don't have nothing but pride, to keep you alive, yeah.  
Alive oh yeah.  
I can't say it will be fine, it's a beautiful lie,  
So please, don't leave it all up to me.**_

* * *

"I don't want to go home, Professor." It is the last day of the school year, the day when most students are celebrating their freedom, yet here is Draco Malfoy, sitting before my desk, begging me not to send him home,

"You know that you can't stay here, Draco," I remind him gently.

The boy lowers his head dejectedly and sighs, "I know."

Pushing back a strand of hair that has fallen in front of his eyes, he whispers "I just wish…" he shrugs, "It doesn't matter." Draco raises his young eyes to meet mine, "You will visit soon though, won't you?"

"Three weeks," I say with a wry smile, "Just keep your head down and do your best to stay out of his way. You'll be fine, Draco, you're a strong boy."

"Yeah I'm strong," he mutters darkly, more to himself than for my benefit,

"I've got to be haven't I?" He bites his lip and blinks hard as slowly but surely his bravado fails him, "I'm frightened Sir." Draco admits, concentrating on the empty goblet set on my desk. I realise, now, that he really _is_ genuinely scared of returning to Wiltshire, for I know, in my experience as Draco's godfather, that he would rather suffer under the Cruciatus Curse than ever admit to fear for little reason.

"You haven't seen your father since September," I say, taking one of Draco's hands in my own. I can feel it trembling slightly and I look up, regarding his miserable expression uneasily. "And your grades are exemplary," I reassure him, "I wouldn't expect better from even the second years…"

"They're not perfect though, are they?" Draco interrupts, pulling his pale hand sharply away, "He expects _perfection_ Sir. You know that nothing else will be accepted." I sigh and lean back in my chair. I know that nothing I say can make him feel any better about returning home and that troubles me.

I nod slowly, "Yes, I know that. If you could stay here, you know that I would be only too happy for you to do so."

'_Anything to get you away from him.' _I add mentally.

Draco gives me a small smile of gratitude, "Thank you, Professor."


	3. Part One 1

_**Part One**_

_**Child of the wilderness  
Born into emptiness  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn to find your way in darkness**_

_**  
Who will be there for you  
Comfort and care for you**  
**Learn to be lonely  
Learn to be your one companion**_

**_  
Never dreamed out in the world_  
_There are arms to hold you?  
You've always known  
Your heart was on its own_**

_**  
So laugh in your loneliness  
Child of the wilderness  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn how to love**_

_**life that is lived alone**_

__

Learn to be lonely  
Life can be lived  
Life can be loved  
Alone

* * *

I would give _anything_ to be able to say truthfully that Draco wasn't always the unhappy little boy whom I see sitting before me today.

But, he was.

Fear, rejection and discipline have ruled over his life ever since he was a very young child, a constant companion that never strayed far, dominating him in the cruellest ways possible.

I remember there were times when Draco was a baby- no more than six or seven months old, when Narcissa would go out visiting and Lucius would be out on 'business' trips and they would leave him on his own, screaming at the top of his tiny lungs for attention, for somebody, _anybody,_ to come and pick him up.

I regret now, that I was never around much at those times, and when I was, I never gave the baby a second glance. Maybe if I had intervened then, things would be different now…

For the longest time, I never_ officially_ met him. I had seen him, though, often enough- a quick movement would catch my eye as he darted out of sight. A shadow would slip from behind a doorframe as he crouched outside, concealed in darkness as he listened to forbidden adult conversation. Conversation that should not be heard by young children. Conversation I wouldn't have thought any boy of that age could even _begin _to comprehend.

But, then again, Draco has never been _any_ boy…

* * *

**_July 3rd 1985_**

I rose as Lucius entered- as was proper- and noticed to my surprise, Draco following sullenly in his father's wake. The boy's head was tilted towards the ground, his face hidden by a curtain of white-blonde hair. He would've been a very handsome child had it not been for the hunch in his shoulder, which gave off a very hostile signal.

"Do sit down, Severus," said Lucius airily, waving for me to take the settee from which I had only just risen. Lucius lowered himself into his arm-chair and Draco, instead of taking up the other chair as I had expected, settled himself at his father's feet and drew his knees up under his chin, keeping his eyes firmly on the beige carpet.

"Why am I here, Lucius?" I asked, getting straight to the point. Lucius was renowned for 'beating about the bush', so to speak, so it was simply easier and less hassle to be blunt with him, "What's your ulterior motive for summoning me here this time?" The man looked quite taken aback by my attitude,

"_Ulterior motive_? I do not like your implications, Severus," he gave me a tight-lipped smile that I returned equally thinly. "Care for a drink?" He knew that I didn't, but he knew also that I couldn't refuse his hospitality. _'Damn him!'_

"That would be…nice." I said stiffly, silently preparing myself to die from whatever vile thing he'd decided to spike my drink with this time. I shall never forget the time when he slipped Pepperup potion into my wine…

But instead of fixing them himself or calling a house-elf to do so, it was Draco whom he turned his attention to with a curt, "Wine, Draco."

Scowling darkly, the five-year-old got to his feet and silently moved across the room to pour a honey coloured liquid into two glasses, one of which he shoved roughly into my hand; expression blank, blue-grey eyes looking anywhere but at me.

I took an instant dislike to him and shot Lucius a look that told him as much. Which he must've understood because when it came for him to receive his drink from Draco, a pallid hand shot out like a fire bolt to catch hold of his son's wrist and pull him forwards, spilling half the glass onto the carpet.

"Now Draco, where did you learn to treat guests in such a disgraceful manner?" he asked, voice like black silk, plucking the almost-but-not-quite-empty glass from Draco's unresisting fingers and placing it firmly on the table. Draco, wide eyed though he was, remained silent.

Regarding his son coolly for a moment, Lucius hissed, "Might I suggest improving this attitude of yours, boy? I find it _most_ disagreeable. Now, make your apologies to Professor Snape," he physically turned his son around and gave him a push in my direction.

I felt suddenly awkward as this sickly looking child stood in front of me, his reproach and steely hostility boring into me, yet still he kept his stubborn silence,

"Draco…" Draco twitched slightly at his father's impatient voice but made no other attempt at either movement or speech, "Draco, I am warning you."

"Lucius, it really doesn't matter…" but the older man was in too much of a rant to pay me any heed.

He had got hold of Draco's shoulders now and was shaking him hard. Unresponsive as ever, Draco merely stared up at his father through huge silver eyes as he was shouted at, "Why do you persist with this insolent silence?" Lucius snarled. I was completely forgotten by this point and could only look on as my friend had a one sided argument with his son.

So I decided to blank out for a while.

I sipped my drink as slowly as was humanly possible and contemplated all the different reasons as to why I had been summoned here. The problem with Lucius was that you never knew what he wanted. There was no point guessing because you could guarantee that it would be the total opposite…

Suddenly, an ear-splitting slap brought me sharply back to Malfoy manor, the sound reverberating around my head,

"I am _not_ having this!" I heard Lucius shout at a quailing Draco, "This has been going on far too long, Draco, and it stops now! Do you understand me?"

Silence. Pure and infuriating.

The child was struck again, a vicious backhanded crack that sent him staggering sideways. But no sound escaped his lips, no tears spilled from his eyes. He just stood there and allowed Lucius to hit him.

When he was sure that there was no way of getting any reaction of any sort out of Draco, Lucius sighed in a very frustrated sort of way and turned his back on the boy, growling, "Oh just get out. I'll deal with you later."

Draco, certainly not needing to be told twice ducked his head and ran from the room.

Lucius slumped down in his chair as though exhausted and downed the remainder of his glass in one, "he is the most stubborn creature I have ever met," he muttered more to himself than to me.

It was incredibly tempting to say _'I wonder where he gets that from?'_ But Lucius was in much too bad a mood for me to risk my life like that. Instead, I voiced my concern, "Lucius," I said slowly, "He doesn't cry."

He shrugged wearily, "Doesn't cry, doesn't talk, doesn't respond to anything. It's been going on for months now. I suppose it's better than how he used to be though."

I raised an eyebrow curiously, "Oh yes? In what way?"

"Well, he was so…what's the word? Desperate, I suppose it was. Yes, desperate. He would follow me around everywhere trying to get my attention. It was getting ridiculous. No matter what I did or said he just kept on pestering me to play with him or to pick him up. And then suddenly it went to the other extreme over night!" Lucius snarled at the empty glass, as though blaming it for all his problems, "I am at the end of my tether with that boy! I have tried everything, but nothing I do seems to get through to him," he glanced over in my direction, "I thought that perhaps you would manage to knock some sense into him whilst Narcissa and I are away."

I was neither amused nor convinced,

"I may have my teaching qualifications," I said stiffly, "but I am _not_ a baby sitter." Lucius smirked and I felt my heart sink to the deepest depths of the Pacific Ocean. I knew from that look that there was no way that I would ever be able to get myself out of that one,

"You _are_ his godfather though," Lucius so kindly reminded me, "and it's about time you started to face up to some of your responsibilities," he smiled serenely and got to his feet, "You've neglected Draco for far too long, Severus."

* * *

Thanks to all who have reviewed! Much appreciate!

Lily xxx


	4. Part One 2

I barely saw Draco at all that weekend; he seemed to be purposefully trying to keep his distance from me, and I have to admit, I was only too happy with that.

It wasn't just that I didn't like him, but there was also something dark about Draco, something dangerous like a secret. And I knew that if I got too involved with this boy, I'd be trapped and never be able to get out again…

* * *

The night before Lucius and Narcissa were due to return, however, I was awoken by a soft knock at my door. At first I thought that I had dreamt it and was about to drop off again, when my dreams were shattered by another knock; a semi-decibel louder. Reluctantly, I rose and made my way slowly over to the door, dragging my feet as I went, to see who the intruder was.

At first, I could make out nothing in the ominous darkness…or it may've been that I was looking in entirely the wrong place…either way, a soft tug on my trouser leg made me look down.

It was Draco- pallid and ghost-like in the gloom. A stab of irritation shot through me. How dare this boy wake me up in the unknown hours of the night?

However, he looked so distressed I couldn't help but ask what he wanted. Draco stared at me like he was trying to tell me telepathically. I, unfortunately, was in no mood for children's games and was about to turn away and shut the door, when a small voice spoke up,

"Please, Sir…" his voice, instead of sounding demanding and imperative as I had expected, was quiet, barely more than a whisper, but there was an edge of urgency to it as well. The shock of hearing Draco actually speak was enough to catch my attention and I turned around.

"Draco, what's the matter? Why are you awake at this hour?"

The little boy watched me nervously for a moment, unsure whether to speak further, then he dropped his gaze quickly to the ground as though afraid that I would accuse him of impertinence.

"P-please Sir…." he mumbled so quietly that I had to stoop to hear him, "I-I-I got sick, Sir. I tried to clean it myself, honest I did, but…but I can't do it Sir."

A stab of pity for the pathetic looking creature standing dejectedly before me, nothing more, made me go with him, having grabbed my wand and donned my slippers.

It became apparent as soon as we'd entered his room, that Draco really _had_ made a desperate attempt to clean up, as there werevarious towels and cups of water strewn about the place and discarded at the foot of the ridiculously immense bed; far too big for such a small child. As soon as we had set foot into the room, Draco fell back against the wall, chewing his bottom lip furiously.

There wasn't as much sick_ness_ as I had anticipated, probably because Draco hadn't eaten much the day before, and it was clear that he had tried to run to the bathroom but had fallen at the last second. I scourgified the carpet easily and then sorted the bed out with another flick of my wand, removing all of the various pieces of material thrown onto it.

"See? There was nothing to worry about." I said, drawing back the bed covers, ready for Draco to get into it, but then something caught my attention. A damp patch, dark against the pure whiteness of the sheet.

It was not water.

"Draco, what is this?"

The little boy winced and drew further back.

"I didn't mean to." he whispered, eyeing me fearfully, "It was an a-accident." An accident…an accident… I grimaced as the truth struck me sharply about the head with a broomstick.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked. Draco flinched as though I was shouting at him, biting his lip all the harder.

"I'm sorry Sir." I sighed more impatiently than I actually felt and made the damp patch disappear with a deft movement of my wrist.

'_Now for the boy,'_ I thought. Something or other was obviously bothering him to have got him in such a state, and I felt it my duty to find out what it was and comfort the poor child as best I could.

I turned back to my godson who was watching me apprehensively from the shadows, unaware of the droplet of blood that was trickling down his chin from where he had bitten his lip too hard. I took a step forward, my intent to make him feel better, but my movement simply served to frighten Draco all the more.

I frowned, "What's wrong Draco?"

"You gonna belt me, Sir?" he whispered hoarsely. I was momentarily startled, his words echoing through my head. _'You gonna belt me, Sir?'_ So that was why he had been so keen to avoid me. That was why he seemed so scared to come to me tonight…That's what Lucius had meant when he said that he hoped I could 'knock some sense into him'. _'Damn you Lucius!'_

"Why should I do that?" I asked, forcing myself to keep my voice steady.

Draco gulped, "Cause…'cause I did bad, Sir. Father said you were to punish me if I was bad. He said you was allowed to hit me, Sir." I felt my heart break and at the same time anger at my best friend.

I had never registered before how much Draco reminded me of Lucius. Not only in the physical sense but also in his attitude. I should've have realised before why he seemed so hostile towards me. I should have seen the similarities in myself as well as Lucius…

"Come here, Draco." He did as I bid, albeit uneasily, looking all the while as though he were going to cry. But, of course, he did not.

I scooped him gently up into my arms and removed a handkerchief from my pocket. I couldn't believe how light Draco was, almost weightless, even. His body was tense and shivery as though he were cold,

"Look at me," I ordered. Slowly, he turned his ashen face to me. To say that he looked terrified would be an understatement to say the least.

"I don't hit children," I said, I said as I dabbed the blood away from his lips. Draco said nothing, simply holding the already damp material up to his mouth at my instruction,

"Come on." I murmured, adjusting him on my arm, "Let's go downstairs."

* * *

_**Please talk to me**_

_**Whatever's wrong?**_

_**You know I'd help you out **_

_**How will I know,**_

_**If you won't say**_

_**What this silence is about?**_

* * *

Pushing a large mug of milky tea into Draco's unresisting fingers, I sat down beside him, cradling my own mug in my hands. Between the deep settee, his huge cup and his feet dangling from the edge of his seat; Draco seemed quite tiny compared to everything around him. He studied the creamy-brown liquid carefully, but I could see him watching me out of the corner of his eye, apprehensive and fearful of my next move.

"What's all this about, Draco?"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"Are you okay? Is anything upsetting you?" His eyes flicked briefly to my face, questioning.

"I-I'm fine Sir," he said, "Honest I am." I raised my eyebrows sceptically and the boy looked away self-consciously. "I'm fine," he repeated stubbornly, sipping his tea and wincing when he realised it was still too hot. Any normal child would've made a fuss at this point, more likely than not crying and throwing things at the wall…well, maybe not the throwing things bit, but you get the gist. But Draco just stayed silent, although his tongue was obviously painful from the way his nose crinkled with discomfort.

"Why don't you cry?" Draco frowned at the suddenness of this delicate question and turned away from me.

"Nobody can hurt me that way," he said very quietly, "If they don't see me crying, I don't get hurt so bad."

"Do you get into trouble if you cry?"

"I don't cry." Draco repeated, my scarlet stained handkerchief still clutched tightly in a white-knuckled fist, "I used to, though. I used to cry. But I don't anymore 'cause I figured it don't do any good and it just hurts more." The shadow of a smirk crossed the boy's lips, "Nothing makes me cry no more," he stated with a hint of pride, "Not Father when I gets punished, nothing."

"Is that why you don't talk too?" I pressed, intrigued by my godson's explanations. Draco gave a small, barely discernible nod. "But you talk to me? You must like me, huh?" He shrugged nonchalantly,

"I guess, I didn't used to. I thought you was like Father's other friends. I thought you was going to belt me. That's what Father said. He said you were gonna make me pay for my disobedience, he said you was gonna put me in my place, Sir. I thought you was gonna hit me worse than Father does." Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my hands and I gave a yelp; my tea had been subtly trying to burn me alive and I hadn't noticed _'Treacherous tea!'_ Regaining my composure and ignoring the strange look that Draco was giving me, I asked,

"Does your father hit you hard?" Draco's eyes narrowed, displeased with my question.

"You saw him, Sir," he reminded me stiffly, "You saw him hit me." To be honest, I hadn't really been paying attention to the severity of Lucius' blows and had just assumed that the harshness of his actions was due to frustration and a sudden lack of control on his part. Certainly not a recurring thing, but the pain and resentment in Draco's eyes told a very different story.

"Has this happened before, Draco?"

"What, Sir?"

"This." I waved my hand around, "Getting sick in the night. And…well, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sometimes, Sir," Draco admitted, burying his face in the over-sized mug, "Sometimes I get nightmares, Sir, that's why I had accidents. I don't usually get sick though." He added with a frown, "But…but I thought you was going to be angry with me and I got scared, Sir. I always feel sick when I get frightened."

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, "I'm sorry for scaring you. I didn't know you thought of me like that."

Draco gave me a small, shy smile, "It was a misunderstanding, wasn't it Sir?"

"Yes." I replied absently, "A mistake. Draco?" The boy looked up expectantly, "If you don't mind me asking, what were you dreaming about?"

Draco stiffened and I could see the cup shaking in his trembling fingers,

"I wasn't dreaming, Sir," he mumbled. I frowned, not knowing what else could frighten him so much in the middle of the night. Although I had had no previous experiences with small children, I had enough instinct to pick up my godson and wrap my arms around him.

"So what happened? What were you thinking about?" Draco shrugged and feigned interest in a loose button on my night-robe, "Draco?"

"Mummy and Father are coming home tomorrow," he mumbled, lip trembling. There were shadows of tears in the corners of his eyes, but he brushed them quickly away before they could fall.

This wasn't a situation I had expected to be in. I had hoped that by now I would be in a substantial job earning a substantial amount by doing very little. _Not_ babysitting my best friend's obnoxious son who turns out not to be that obnoxious after all and, though, I hate to even think it; Draco was obviously being emotionally deprived and quite possibly abused too.

Merlin, why couldn't anything in my life be simple for once?

"You're not going, are you?" a little voice said quietly "Tomorrow, when they come back, I mean." He looked so hopeful and worried a horrible feeling of guilt crept up my spine.

"I'm sorry Draco…" His face fell as he caught onto what I was trying to say. I winced slightly at Draco's white fingers bit into my arm, like he was desperate to hang onto me and terrified of what would happen if he let go,

"Please Sir, don't go! I don't want you to!"

"Draco," I said more firmly, removing his fingers gently from my robe, "I can't stay here forever. I'll come back though, of course I will." I laughed and gave the boy a quick hug, "Don't worry, Draco."

"Don't laugh at me!" Draco yelled, jumping to his feet, suddenly angry, "I knew you were just the same! I knew it and you lied to me!" His rage, as unjustified as it was, was understandable and I willed myself to keep control. It would do no good to either of us if I lost my temper.

"Stop." I told him tightly, putting both hands on his shoulders and forcing him to sit back down, "I'm sorry for laughing at you, I didn't know it would make you react in such a way." Draco ground his teeth at me, folding his arms irritably across his chest in a very child-like manner. "Come sit with me."

Grudgingly, he obeyed, climbing clumsily up onto my lap where he sat stiffly, not moving, not looking at anything. I said nothing also, waiting for Draco to make the first move when he was ready.

Finally, after many minutes of silence, he said quietly, "You're going to tell Father, aren't you? That's why you're not punishing me, so Father will do it." He glared, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I told you before that I do not hit children," I murmured, playing absently with a strand of Draco's baby-fine hair, "And that means that I do not favour it in any circumstance. So no, Draco, I will not be telling your Father, for there is no need to do so. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm bad! I'm bad!" Draco wailed miserably, "I have to be punished so's the badness is knocked out of me, else I'll be bad for always!" My soul bled for the boy and I pulled him close, wrapping my arms tightly around his thin frame.

"You're not bad, Draco. You're just a confused little boy who has been hurt too badly to know any different." Gradually, his body relaxed into my embrace and he finally allowed himself to be comforted.

"Let me help you." I appealed, resting a hand on the back of Draco's head. The boy was still and silent, almost as if he were dead, his breathing shallow but steady and I could feel his fingers as they clutched once again at my robe.

"Come on," I murmured, picking up the sleepy boy, "Let's get you back to bed."

* * *

Thankyou to all who have reviwed! I promise new stuff in 2 chapters, i'm just re-posting all the old stuff fist :)

Lily xxx


	5. Part One 3

At first, I was certain that I would turn Lucius' offer down. If I was going to teach at all I wanted it to at least be in a proper school with a proper classroom. I was pretty sure that Lucius would fire me after a week, anyway, because I wouldn't have been able to teach Draco anything. And then I would never be able to work again…I had heard many tales of people who had been sacked by the Malfoys; they gave me a headache every time I thought of them.

Despite my misgivings about the job and confidence that I wasn't going to do it, the more time I spent with Draco, the more I began to doubt both my judgement and myself. It felt good to be around someone who genuinely wanted me there, who _needed _me. I cherished the way his face would light up when I came to see him and yet at the same time, he never demanded my attention; instead, he would always wait just a little way off for me to go to him.

Draco was clever too. Normally, one would expect small children to be stupid, which is perfectly reasonable as they have had neither the time nor the attention span to learn anything. But I could just talk to Draco about, well, _anything_ and expect him to understand and talk back to me. He was better at holding a conversation than most adults I had met.

Draco was a special little boy and anybody who couldn't see that was a fool.

However, as my friendship with Draco progressed, my respect and allegiance towards Lucius diminished rapidly. I hated the way he treated his child; manipulating his mind and breaking his spirit with cruel actions and harsh words, just like Abraxas had done to him. I couldn't understand how anyone could treat such a precious child so appallingly and still think it the right thing to do.

Although Draco was talking again, it didn't seem to do him much good, if anything, it just made things worse. Sometimes, if Lucius rounded on him suddenly and started asking questions, Draco would become so frightened of saying the wrong thing either the words wouldn't come out at all, or his rapidly developing stammer would overcome him; serving only to irritate Lucius further.

But in November, I finally found the excuse I was looking for to stay…

* * *

**_November 18th 1985_**

I had been to many of Lucius' parties before over the years that I had known him. Some elaborate, more to show off to people of high prestige than anything else. They were boring and I very rarely attending such occasions, I didn't fit into that world. Others were simpler, where a few select friends gathered to discuss Wizarding politics and Death-Eater issues. That night was one of those

I know for a fact that Lucius made a point of not allowing Draco to attend such meetings, deeming them- understandably- inappropriate.

But there was Draco nonetheless, dressed simply in a thin white shirt (Totally inappropriate for this time of year) and black trousers. He followed silently behind his father, head respectfully bowed towards the ground, although he still managed a small smile when he caught sight of me.

"Sit there," Lucius ordered, his tone snappy and irritable and jerked his head in the direction of the empty seat between myself and Fenir Greyback. The little boy nodded and slowly made his way around the immense table, limping slightly as he went. Draco ignored the stares he was receiving from the others; some curious, some mocking and others just purely sadistic.

"How are you?" I asked as I helped Draco to clamber up onto his seat, "How's everything been?" He gave a quick shrug.

"Okay. Just normal really," he grinned, "I got a new broomstick last week! A Twigger Ninety! It's _really_ fast, but I can fly it and I haven't fallen off yet. Father says they'll _have_ to put me on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts if I carry on the way I'm going," Draco added proudly, his excitement barely concealed, "I want to be a chaser 'cause they get to do the most, but Father says that I ought to train as a seeker 'cause I'm small for my age and fast too."

"Congratulations." Draco ducked his head with embarrassment, but his smile was as wide as ever.

"Thanks Sir," he said shyly, "Father says that if I practise hard enough, he'll get me a proper trainer! So then I'll be the best and win every time!"

I couldn't help but laugh at his complacency. It was okay now, but I sincerely hoped that he didn't carry such high expectations to Hogwarts with him. Certainly Draco was talented, but there would always be somebody better, no matter _how_ good he was at it. But there was no point warning Draco about this now. After all, I too had confidence that he would make it onto the team. Especially if Lucius had anything to do with it.

"And how is your father?" I asked, "How has he been treating you?"

Draco paused, sucking his lip thoughtfully, "Okay," he said again, "but…but Father's been a bit grumpy today," his voice became small and he toyed idly with his fork, "I don't know why, though. He's just like that sometimes, you know?"

"Has he hurt you today?" Draco stiffened and turned abruptly away from me. I knew as soon as the words had escaped my lips that I had over stepped the line. But it was too late now.

As subtly and as gently as I could manage, I pulled Draco's left arm towards me and carefully tugged up his shirtsleeve till it was just below his elbow; revealing several vivid pink marks scattered across an almost completely white arm. These were not recent though. Having had previous experiences in such 'matters', they looked to me to be at least a couple of weeks old. Maybe more. But before I could get a better look, Draco yanked his arm sharply out my hands, glaring at me reproachfully.

"You shouldn't have done that," he muttered angrily, "nobody's 'sposed to see. Anyway, they're not from today, they're from a while back but they haven't healed properly like they're 'sposed to." He frowned down at his arm, as though blaming it, then self-consciously pulled his sleeve back down with a strange tenderness, hiding the blemishes to his otherwise perfect image.

"What has he done to you, Draco?" I asked softly. Draco winced. It was apparent that the memory was still too fresh, too raw, in Draco's mind for him to be able to recall them without it stinging. He started to fiddle with a loose thread on his sleeve, obviously trying to pretend that I wasn't there and that the question had never been asked. "How did you hurt your leg?"

Draco grimaced, "Is it really _that_ obvious?"

"I'm afraid so."

"What does it matter?" The boy mumbled, hunching his shoulders. "What difference does it make?"

"It matters to me," I said, resting my hand gently on his. "You said yourself that Lucius was grumpy today and I can see in your eyes that you have been hurt." I sighed, "If it's serious, Draco, you have to tell me because if you just ignore it, it may never mend properly and you'll always have a limp." My godson looked scandalised,

"But then I won't be able to do Quidditch!" I thought of giving him an _'Exactly-see-I-was-right'_ look, but settled with saying thoughtfully,

"I see your predicament…so, are you going to let me help you, or not?"

Draco shook his head, refusing to meet my gaze. "It was an accident, Sir. It doesn't hurt anyway so it doesn't matter. Really it doesn't."

"Draco, please…"

"Don't make such a big deal out of it!" the boy snapped, "It'll heal on its own. They always do."

I raised an eyebrow. "So it wasn't an accident?" Draco flushed angrily, annoyed that I had 'caught him out',

"What business is it of yours anyway?" he demanded, sounding very much like his father. "Why should you care about what happens here? It's nothing to do with you!"

"Why won't you let me help you?" I snapped irritably. "Why do you keep pushing me away?" Draco said nothing and looked away, I could see him drawing back into himself; curling into his defensive shell.

I knew the reason Draco wouldn't let me get close; He still didn't trust me. He still thought that I'd run away and if he got close it would hurt too much when 'I abandoned him'. I didn't know what I could do to make him trust me and it was so frustrating. I hated the feeling of utter helplessness that I always felt when I looked at him, but, as Draco said, it was my own fault; I shouldn't have got involved in the first place.

But it was too late now.

For the most part, the rest of the evening was uneventful; unsuitable things were discussed in great depth, (I would just like to stress that _I_ did not take part in such conversations) and everybody drank a great deal. Naturally, I soon became bored and would have left quite a while ago, had it not been for Draco, who I could tell was as bored as myself. It was getting late, also, far too late for such a small child to be staying up and Draco was practically falling asleep at the table.

I toyed idly with the cold remnants of my pasta which was slowly congealing on my plate and contemplated things that are of neither importance nor interest and, as such, shall not be mentioned here. My thoughts ceased abruptly, however, by a dull thud and I saw, to my surprise, Draco sound asleep with his head against the table.

There was silence; all eyes upon the slumbering child, his thumb tucked loosely between pearly white teeth. The picture of childish innocence. Then there was the harsh scrape of a chair being pushed back against the stone of the floor and Lucius rose to his feet. Moving silently around the table, Lucius scooped the sleeping Draco gently up into his arms and left the room without a sound, presumably to put him to bed.

Maybe I had misjudged Lucius after all…

* * *

Lucius returned quite a while later, sullen and secretive, and ushered everyone into the drawing room for coffee,

"I'd rather not have him disturbed," he said rather stiffly when I tried to make a getaway to bid my godson goodnight, "I've only just managed to get him to settle."

"Why?" I asked, "He seemed completely out of it when you took him up. I can't imagine that it took _that _long." Lucius studied me for a moment, then turned on his heal.

"I don't want Draco disturbed."

Of course, I headed straight for Draco's room at the first possible opportunity, just to say goodnight and make sure that he was okay.

Draco was asleep, as I had expected, curled up on top of the bed covers, still with his clothes on. A single candle burned on the bedside table, illuminating the little boy's face.

"Oh Dracom" I whispered, smoothing the sleeping child's hair; Draco's face was stained with tears, his cheek was bruised and swollen and his lip bloody.

The next morning, his limp was worse than ever.

I knew that I couldn't leave now, I was bound to Draco and I had to protect him as best I could.

I was trapped.

* * *

Next chapter NEW STUFF! Woot! ahem 

Thanx to all who have reviewed! Please people who read review too!!!!! PPPPPLLLLLLEEEEEAAAASSSSEEEE...?


	6. Part Two 1

_**Part Two**_

**No more talk of darkness,  
Forget these wide-eyed fears.  
I'm here, nothing can harm you -  
my words will warm and calm you.**

**  
Let me be your freedom,  
let daylight dry your tears.  
I'm here, beside you,  
to guard you and to guide you. .**

Let me be your shelter,  
let me be your light.  
You're safe. No-one will find you  
your fears are far behind you

_**All I want is freedom.**_

_**A world with no more noise**_

_**And you, always beside me;**_

_**To hold me and to hide me**_

****

_**Promise me**_

_**That all you say is true**_

_**That's all I ask of you.**_

* * *

**_January 25th 1986_**

"…and these," Lucius gestured around the room, lavishly furnished with dark-wood furniture and deep, blue carpets, "Are where you will be staying." He smirked as I gazed, awe-struck, around the magnificent rooms. _My_ rooms. "I hope that they are to your liking?" I nodded dumbly, my eyes searching every inch; taking in every detail of my new surroundings.

"It's fantastic." I managed to blurt out finally, "Really…fantastic." Lucius laughed at my sudden incoherentness.

"Excellent. The door on our left leads into the bedroom and bathroom and on the right is the room in which you shall be teaching. Everything that you require should be here, however, if you happen to find anything else, do not hesitate to ask." Lucius may have been a bastard, but there was no doubt that he was also a perfect host. "I shall leave you to familiarise yourself with your surroundings."

I wandered around dazedly, trying to take in every detail of those beautiful rooms. I know it sounds cheesy, but it felt like I was dreaming…the furniture was made of dark wood, polished so that it shone like glass, the carpet so deep and soft that I could've quite happily slept on the floor and the ceiling was as high as my own house. I shall not describe everything as to do so would take far too long. Instead, I ask you to imagine the most elaborate of accommodation then time that by five. _That_ may give some sort of indication as to what it was like.

My classroom was equally spectacular yet, in a way, simpler. Three of the walls were lined with bookshelves and cupboards; filled to the brim with everything I might need. The fourth wall was taken up by one massive window that overlooked the east gardens and lake. The drapes were made from heavy, green velvet and were tied back by silver rope. I had two tables to my disposal; One in the centre of the room surrounded by a couple of antique-looking chairs and the other, nearer the window, was smaller; presumably for my own personal use. It was laden with pens, paper, ink and all manner of different writing materials.

And then I saw it. There, amidst bits of paper and bottles of ink…

I saw red.

* * *

"If this is meant to be some sort of a joke," I snarled, throwing the offending object at Lucius, "I, personally, don't find it particularly amusing!" Lucius frowned and examined it.

"It's just a stick, Severus, why are you getting so uptight about it?"

"I am not teaching with _that_ in my classroom."

"Why ever not?" He asked petulantly, "You never know, you may need it someday." He smirked and twirled it idly around, "You might even develop a liking for it."

"I don't want it." I repeated firmly, "And I don't need it. There are _other_ ways of teaching children apart from _beating_ facts into their heads, in case you don't remember, Lucius."

The blonde man scowled. "You and your bloody morals. If you had children of your own, you'd understand. Keep it." He shoved it back into my hands, "For when you come to your senses."

* * *

Of course, I'd much prefer to remain crazy and as soon as I had reached my rooms, I stashed the blasted thing under my bed in the hope that the monsters who dwelled there (or at least some obliging mice) might dispose of it for me.

"Hi Sir." I turned from my thoughts to see Draco hovering in the doorway. I smiled and gestured for him to come in.

"Hello Draco." The boy grinned and took a flying leap up onto the bed beside me, creating havoc in the once perfect bed linen.

"Is it true?" he asked breathlessly, "What Father says; are you really staying?"

I nodded slowly, "Yes…that is true…"

"Yes!" Draco gave a yell of joy and punched the air, "I knew it! I knew it! And you're going to be my teacher, right? You're gonna teach me magic and spells, aren't you? Father says that you are. Does that mean that I have to have a wand?" I suddenly realised that this wasn't a rhetorical question and he actually was waiting for an answer.

"I actually don't know about that," I admitted, "I'm not sure whether the Ministry will allow it."

Draco's face fell slightly. "Oh…then how will I learn magic? Father says I have to 'else I'll fail at school. He says I'll be behind everyone else and then all the teachers will think I'm stupid." I sighed, talk about manipulating people into doing what you want!

"Oh Draco, that's not true," I assured him. My little godson looked up tearfully.

"Really?"

"Really. Everyone at school will be on exactly the same level as you will be. Nobody will be any better or worse than anyone else."

But Draco was still doubtful, "But Father says-"

"Maybe your father didn't explain things properly to you." I said through gritted teeth, silently cursing Draco's determination to believe every single word that Lucius tells him, "Or perhaps he doesn't understand it fully himself."

Draco bristled with indignation. "Father _does_ understand! And _he_ said that I'd learn magic with a wand else I wouldn't be good at school and I'd fail and I'd be held back in years and then Father would be cross."

"Draco, I can assure you that you will _not_ be held back at school. It takes a _very_ stupid student for that to happen and from what I've heard, you are certainly not stupid. In fact, I've been told that you're rather intelligent, actually." Draco managed a small smile,

"Really? Father said that?" His face brightened immensely at the idea and I didn't have the heart to tell him exactly what his father had said, so I simply nodded,

"Uh huh. But we'll soon see won't we? In the next few weeks." Draco whooped and jumped on me.

'_Yay yay yay!!!'_ came the muffled yell.

* * *

Unfortunately, as bright and intelligent as Draco was, he turned out to have a very short attention span when it came to lessons. Certainly he was interested in what I had to tell him and was more than capable of completing the tasks that I set for him, but Draco was easily distracted by pictures and prone to continually asking inappropriate questions (_"Sir, how does a billywig eat if it doesn't have a mouth?" "Sir, what does a kelpie look like?") _Had it not been for the fact that I was adamantly against using corporal punishment, I would have certainly used the hated object still under my bed more than once. And any less capable man, I'm sure, would have resorted to it straight away.

Draco also seemed to have an acute fear of mistakes; every misspelled word, every wrong question was met with despair. He watched me fearfully as I marked his work; wincing each time I made a suggestion for improvement or corrected something, no matter how gently I did so. I had suspicion that this had something to do with Draco's previous learning experiences, but I didn't ask about it. I figured that he'd soon realise that I wouldn't get angry if he made a mistake on his own…hopefully.

Nevertheless, I was grateful for the fact that my young student was inquisitive, (If a little too much at times) for it meant that he was a keen learner and not one of those tedious brats who make even the most competent of teachers feel as though they know nothing. Considering both Draco's enthusiasm and intellectual ability, I was confident that within a few months even Lucius wouldn't be able to condemn and criticise the boy.

It was harder though, much harder than I had imagined it to be. I found that I was teaching things that I had never even heard of before, which made it exceedingly difficult when Draco was in a questioning mood. In the end, it turned out to be more of a study group than actual lessons; with both of us learning from each other. But that was good; it was far more interesting that way

But as the weeks progressed, I noticed Draco slowly slipping back to how he was before; he became quiet and subdued, contributing less and less each week and doing only what was asked of him. I noticed bruises blossoming on his pale flesh when he forgot to cover his arms with white-cotton sleeves and what little colour he had gained was fading fast. The transition was slow, but obvious and at least a month went by before I decided to confront him about it.

* * *

**_3rd February 1986_**

The quill scraped harshly across the parchment, dragged reluctantly with shaking fingers, the boy's shoulders were hunched and his head bowed as he worked in silence. He hadn't spoken a single word since I had come back after what seemed like an especially long weekend. It can't have been that he was angry at me for leaving him, as we were both used to the arrangements by now, and I don't now what else I might have done to upset him. I watched him work from my own desk, where I sat jotting down new ideas for potions to try out. I didn't know what I should say. How could I say anything to comfort him when I didn't know what the problem was?

"How are you getting on with it?" Draco's head jerked up as I pulled up a chair beside him, his hand half covering the work that he'd done.

"May I look?" I pulled the parchment towards me without waiting for an answer and scanned it quickly. The writing was looked as though it had been scrawled hurriedly; each word ran into each other, making the piece barely illegible. I began correcting, defecting it with red marks and hints for improvement. With every mark I made, Draco seemed to get more and more flustered and when I reached the end he had actually become so upset, he ducked his head and ran into my room, covering his face with his hands.

I dropped my quill straight away, spattering the table with ruby-red ink and followed at a fast walk, brushing irritably at my hair as it fell in front of my face. Draco was huddled against the far right-hand corner of my room, his head resting against the wall. His normally handsome features were screwed up in a desperate attempt to keep himself from crying. Draco was trying so hard to keep his tears under control that his whole body was shaking with the effort.

He raised his eyes slowly to meet mine, fear and mistrust horribly evident in the silvery-grey and the way he shrank back when I dropped down to his level only seemed to emphasize it all the more.

"Draco?"

He cringed, hands knotting restlessly together in his lap, his small movements twitchy and nervous. I gently moved a hand up to his face and rested it lightly on one ashen cheek, willing him to relax and calm down. "Come on Draco. Talk to me, Dragon."

A violent, panicky head-shake was all the explanation I received.

"Did something happen over the weekend?" I pressed, "Has he been knocking you around again?" Draco shrugged sharply, allowing hair to fall in front of his face.

A growl of frustration rose up into my throat,

"Merlin, Draco! I thought things were getting better? I thought all this nonsense had stopped?"

He winced, hurt creeping into his expression. _'Why?'_ Draco asked silently, _'Why would you think that?'_

But I didn't know, I had simply assumed. I suppose that I wanted so much to make a difference to Draco's situation, I never actually considered that I had to do anything to achieve that change. And now, here we were again, right back to where we started and all because _I_ was stupid enough to assume that things were okay. Some teacher I was…

"Do you want me to do anything?" I asked softly. Draco's eyes snapped up, his attention fixed back on me. "Do you want me to have a word with your father?"

The boy bit his lip and gave a small, barely perceptible nod of conferment.

'_Please,'_ he mouthed.

* * *

I knocked once on the door into Lucius' study and waited impatiently for him to answer. Lucius always seemed to be locked away in his study during the week when I was there, doing some sort of work for the ministry, at least that is what I assumed. Nobody really seemed to know _what_ Lucius did for a job…I think it was something to do with public relations, but I could be wrong. Anyway, partly because of this and partly because I didn't want to involve myself with him as much as possible when it came to work, I very rarely got a chance to speak with Lucius.

He looked up slowly as I shut the door behind me, grey eyes glinting behind black-rimmed glasses. A pen was hovering above an official-looking report and a droplet of ink was hanging precariously from the end, about to drop.

"What?" said Lucius, glaring at me, not even bothering with manners. I didn't mind though, he was always irritable when he'd been working for a long time. "This had better important Severus. I have to get these done by tomorrow."

"Don't worry," I told him coolly. "I won't keep you from your work for long."

The resentment in my voice must've shown as Lucius, with a sigh, laid down his pen and removed his glasses, placing the carefully to one side and said, "What's the matter? It's Draco isn't it?"

"Of course it is," I snapped, "he's not talking again."

Lucius looked annoyed. "Well what do you want _me _to do about it?" he demanded testily.

"I want you to lay off him. A student with no self-confidence will get nowhere, no matter how clever they are. You do, I presume, wish Draco to excel in his academic studies?"

"Naturally. But Severus, I do _hope_ you are not implying that it is _my_ fault that Draco is not reaching his capability? After all, it is you who are the teacher. "

"And as such," I replied thinly, " it is my obligation, if my pupil isn't happy, to find out what is troubling him and do everything within my power to put it right."

"You seem to forget," Lucius cut in shortly, "that you are under _my_ employment and as such, it is _my_ instruction that must be observed. Not _your_ foolish morals." He picked up his pen and turned his attention back to the reports. "How I choose to deal with Draco is none of your concern, Severus. I suggest that you stick to your job and leave it at that; _stop meddling in things that are none of your business._"

My heart was heavy with disappointment as I trudged back to my classroom to tell Draco. I know that I hadn't promised a positive outcome but the guilt that was creeping its way into my throat told me that I might as well have done.

* * *

A/N: Thankyou to everyone who has read and reviewed! Like every other fanfic author, I am a review junkie (to con a phrase) so keep em comin'!

In responce to- _draco does not use improper english but it is interesting. _I know Draco speaks properly, but Draco is only five years old at this point in time and how many five year-olds to you know who speak perfect English? Lol!

Lily xxx


	7. Part Two 2

My heart was heavy with disappointment as I trudged back to my classroom to tell Draco. I know that I hadn't promised a positive outcome but the guilt that was creeping its way into my throat told me that I might as well have done.

Draco's head jerked up immediately as he heard the door swing shut behind me; his eyes bright and hopeful, a pleasant change from the dull grey they had been only a while before. His face fell, however, when I shook my head, my expression glum. Draco sighed and slumped forward so that his chin was resting on the table.

"I'm sorry," I said, resting one hand on the boy's shoulder and kneeling down to his level, "I did try, but there was never anything that could be done, not really. We'll just have to make the best of it, huh?"

Levering himself up onto his elbows, Draco nodded and gave me a small, brave smile, showing a new gap where a tooth had just recently fallen out. I returned it and ruffled the boy's mob of silvery hair, making Draco giggle and swat at my hand.

"Good boy. How about we read have some more of that book we started the other night?" Draco nodded eagerly and within seconds, the book was thrust into my hands; _'Goodnight Mister Tom'_ the title read, _'by Michelle Magorian'._

I had been into the town a couple of weeks previous and had picked up a few children's books I thought Draco and I could read together. Not having read this particular one before, I had very little idea of what the story would contain, although it became apparent early on that it had not been wise, on my part, to suggest this particular book, considering the delicacy of my student's situation and his sensitivity towards it. Nevertheless, Draco seemed blissfully unaware of his resemblance to the protégé or perhaps it was simply denial, but either way he appeared to enjoy it. And so, despite my foreboding, I read to him.

We settled ourselves comfortably into the ludicrously large armchair in my sitting room. When Draco was curled up in my lap with his thumb in his mouth and a clear view of the text, I began to read;

"_Willie ran up the pathway towards the cottage, through the graves and under the oak tree, his shoes squelching. They ran into the hall, Tom's boots clattering on the tiles. He shook the rain from his overcoat and proceeded to undo his boots._

_Sammy stood on the mat, shaking his fur by the front door and looking out at the sheets of rain that were now whipping across the graveyard…"_

As I read, I though subconsciously of how I could build Draco's confidence, particularly when it came to speaking, as that seemed to be where the main problem lay. Even when Draco did mange to speak, it was nearly always as a stammer or a faint whisper that one had to stoop to hear. In my (somewhat limited) experience, I had reached the conclusion, that the most stressful problem any child faces was knowing when to talk and when not to, and knowing what to say should the occasion arise when your adult actually wanted you to speak.

Perhaps a change of scenery would do the trick…a holiday…

"_Willie heard the paper being torn and turned to watch him. He knew the letter was from his mum. He checked again that his wet socks were pulled up and stood very still._

'_Dear sir or madam,' it read, 'I asked if Willie could stay with god-fearing people, so I hope he has. Like most boys, he's full of sin but he's promised to be good. I've put the belt in for when he's bad and I've sewn him in for the winter-"_

There was a sharp intake of breath and I felt Draco tense considerably in my arms. I impulsively held him a little bit closer.

"Are you okay?" I murmured, "Do you want to stop?"

Numbly, Draco shook his head. No. I sighed and continued,

"_Tom folded the letter and put it into his pocket. He found a belt at the bottom of the bag. It was a brown leather one with a steel buckle._

_Willie stood with his back to the fire and stared uneasily up at him._

_Tom was angry._

'_While you're in my house,' he said in a choked voice. 'You'll live by my rules. I ent ever hit a child and if I ever do, it'll be with the skin of me hand. You got that?' "_

"What does that mean?" Draco asked suddenly, pointing to what I had just read, "That bit there."

I reread the passage that Draco indicated- _'I ent ever hit a child and if I ever do, it'll be with the skin of me hand.' _

"It means, um…it means he doesn't hit, but if he had to it would be with his hand instead of a belt or a stick."

Draco thought about this for a moment, brow furrowed in a slight frown as he did so. "Oh…why?"

"Why what?" Draco gave me a withering look as though it were obvious.

"Why would he only use his hand? If he only did that, it wouldn't really hurt after a while." Poor little Draco and his tainted view of morality.

"Well, that is precisely why, Draco. He doesn't _want_ to hurt. He doesn't want to hit unless it's absolutely necessary."

"But _you_ said it was wrong to hit no matter what the circumstance," Draco said petulantly. "Why would he suddenly think it was right if it's completely wrong?"

I could tell he just wanted to argue now. Well, that was fine. I could play that game.

I shrugged exaggeratedly. "Some people think it right, some people think it wrong. Who am I to tell them what to think?"

Draco pouted; this wasn't how he wanted it to go. "You tell me though," he pressed. "And Father. Father doesn't like it when you tell him to stop, it annoys him. He thinks you should mind your own business. "

"Your father is a very stubborn man who refuses to listen to anybody who says differently from him."

Draco looked smug. "But you do try an' tell him what to think, though, don't you?"

"And does it do either of us any good?" I snapped. "Have I made even the slightest bit of difference to this godforsaken situation?"

Draco looked away awkwardly. "But at least you try to," he said. "The other's, Father's other friends, they see me but they pretend they don't. They're scared of Father, see? But you're not, Sir, you stand up to him even if it doesn't make much difference."

* * *

That night, I pondered Draco's words for a long time, lying in bed and talking to the ceiling.

Was I scared of Lucius? I had never really considered it, but I didn't think so. To be honest, he had never really given me any reason to be afraid, or perhaps it was because I knew that I was a bigger threat to him than he was to me, considering Lucius had a reputation to uphold and I was quite content without one.

But surely if I wasn't afraid, why didn't I simply to something impulsive and drastic and let that be an end to it? I could kidnap Draco, immigrate to Australia and we could completely change our identities, living our lives as kangaroo farmers…

Somehow that didn't really appeal to me and, to be honest, I didn't think Draco would think much of it either… but you get the gist.

Perhaps I was afraid. But only a little, of course.

* * *

Maybe it was because I had known Lucius for so long or perhaps it was because Draco never spoke of her, but I never really thought much about Narcissa's relationship with her son. In fact, I never spared her much thought at all…

Narcissa was a very aloof woman, always going about as though she was in a dream. That's why Lucius married her- she was a fairy princess; a pretty toy to bring out on occasion to show off with, but not real enough to be worth a great deal of thought and attention.

Narcissa was young too, far too young to be a decent mother. Thinking upon that for a moment, I suppose Lucius can't be held entirely responsible for his terrible parenting methods, considering both his own parents and the fact that he practically brought Draco up single handedly. Perhaps that's why Draco always remained faithful to his father no matter what, because, as unfortunate as it seems, Lucius was the only parent that the boy had…

* * *

**_May 24th 1986._**

It was Friday night and Lucius was working late at the Ministry. By rights, I should've been at home by then, but this weekend I had decided to stay on as Draco was very anxious to show me how his Quidditch training was going.

I had left Draco to his own devices, to do whatever he normally did on a Friday evening and I assumed he would be playing or reading to himself in a secluded corner somewhere. But then…

"Draco get mummy another drink, Darling."

I couldn't help but watch with interest as Draco accepted the empty glass from his mother without a word and went over to the liquor cabinet to refill it like an obedient servant. I could tell from a mile off that it was brandy her innocent little boy poured for her, but by the way Narcissa drunk it, it could've been water.

Draco knelt at his mother's feet and laid his head in her silken lap as she petted and caressed his hair absently, all the while humming tunelessly to herself. Every now and then, Narcissa would call on Draco to refill her glass and he would obey without word or protest and then kneel down again.

But after the fifth cup had been handed to her, she tugged Draco onto her lap.

"My pretty Dragon," she crooned, placing kisses on her son's passive face, "My beautiful Angel…" I would've thought that this kind of affection would've had Draco skipping over the moon, but he simply remained still and silent as Narcissa showered him with caresses and meaningless words. He looked bored and tired, as though this were a chore; something unpleasant that had to be put up with.

"Lucius…" Narcissa murmured suddenly, her touch becoming less and less gentle and her kisses looked vicious and desperate.

Draco winced as her teeth nipped at his skin and her lips tried to meet his. "Stop it," he told her, turning his face away slightly. He spoke firmly but with a gentleness that one usually reserved for small children, stupid people and annoying teenagers. "You shouldn't do that, Mummy."

Narcissa gave a short dry laugh that was more of a sob than anything else, "Why don't you love me anymore?" she cried, banging her fists against Draco's chest. "Why, Lucius? Just tell me! TELL ME!!"

"Stop Mummy, stop! It's Draco!" Narcissa froze and the way she looked at him…it was like she had never seen her son before.

"D-Draco?"

The little boy nodded, "Yes Mummy."

Narcissa let out a deep, sad sigh and moved her hair behind her ears. "Oh, Draco. What is going on? You don't understand either, do you little Dragon? This is no place for people like us, Draco, we must stick together. You understand that, don't you?" Draco said nothing, and it was clear from his expression that he most certainly did _not_ understand, "we have to get away from here," Narcissa murmured, brushing a finger gently along Draco's chest. "Just you and I. We'd be fine, you know, we don't need anyone else…" she sighed again, "get me a drink, Draco," She pressed the glass into her son's unresisting fingers, but Draco didn't move.

"Mummy… I-I don't think you should have any more…"

"Just get me a goddamned drink, won't you?" Narcissa snarled, shoving him off her brutally. The force sent Draco crashing to the ground and the glass shattered on impact, sending shards of glass everywhere. My godson flinched and instantly scrambled around trying to pick up the glass, wincing as the sharp pieces bit into his skin.

Narcissa jumped unsteadily to her feet, cursing as she wavered precariously on her heels until she finally got some sort of balance, "You're just like your bloody father!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face, "Useless! Completely useless!"

She turned awkwardly on her heel and scurried from the room, sobbing loudly. Draco watched her go; devastation set in his silver-grey eyes, and then silently went back to his task.

"Hey." I knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder.

Draco jumped, eyes wide with alarm and promptly dropped the fragments he had collected, "Sir! I-I…"

"Oh Dragon," I sighed, tucking his hair behind his ears, "why didn't you talk to me about this? I could've helped you…"

"It's not her fault," Draco whispered, his voice edged with defence. "She doesn't know…She just gets upset sometimes," he bit his lip and turned away, "I want her to be happy."

"Does this happen often?" I asked, almost dreading the answer that I would receive.

But Draco shook his head, "No. Not like that anyway. And only on Fridays, when Father's not at home. Sometimes she starts crying and won't stop, others she's just angry and… I don't like it when she's angry 'cause she throws things an' it's scary."

A horrible thought swept through my head. "She doesn't…"

"No," Draco said quickly, glaring up at me. "She doesn't hit. 'Least…she doesn't mean to and not often either. That's the trouble, she doesn't know what she's doing and she loses control. It's not her fault. Really it isn't!"

This wasn't good, and I hated the thought that it had been going on every Friday and I hadn't known about it. What if I hadn't stayed this time? How far would she go in the future? The thought made me cringe inwardly,

"Does your father know about this?" I asked seriously, although I knew from the boy's expression the answer I would receive. "Draco, you _have_ to tell him! He'd stop it, you know he would, and this can't go on."

Draco looked at me in alarm. "Please Sir, you mustn't tell! He'll be so angry with her, Sir! I don't want her to be anymore sad than she already is! Please don't tell Father, it won't help a bit, anyway. When she gets sad, she gets worse and she calls me Father. I-I don't like it when she does that. I don't like it when she forgets me," he whimpered as the glass cut him again, but clutched the shattered pieces resolutely in his hand. Fingers darting across the carpet to retrieve more,

"Here, let me," I waved my wand and the glass disappeared. Draco watched me enviously, wishing that he could fix things so easily. "You know that your father would be furious if he knew that someone had been hurting you, don't you Draco?"

Draco scowled down at the carpet, self-consciously rubbing his arm. "He would just make her sad," he repeated, stubbornly. "I don't want her to be sad…"

"I know, Dragon, I know. But it's not up to you to make her happy. Allowing her to kiss you like that won't make her happy Draco. Maybe it will at first, but it won't last."

Draco looked at me with sad eyes and wiped his sleeve across his nose. "I guess…but then she'd be angry at me. I tried pushing her away once, but she started screaming stuff at me and she threw her glass at the wall. She usually breaks something and I have to clean up, else Father would know…"

Draco took a deep breath and gulped hard before continuing. "Once, I cut my finger an' a piece of glass got stuck in it an' I had to get it out with a needle an' it hurt a lot. She wouldn't do it, you know, if you were here," he added almost reproachfully, "Or Father. She only gets like it when it's just me, other times she just stays away an' reads an' drinks coffee a lot. She doesn't like to talk to people. She…she doesn't even eat with us anymore…" A choking sob caught in the boy's throat and he crawled clumsily into my lap; allowing me to comfort him with gentle words and soft caresses.

I hated to see Draco like this and I knew that I was as helpless as he to put and end to all of this. There was nothing either of us could do…

Suddenly, the sound of the front door being slammed carried across the room, making Draco jump.

"I've got to go!" he whispered, his grey eyes slightly panicked, "I ought to be in bed by now…" He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, ran to the door, the hesitated and turned uncertainly to me, "You-you won't…"

"I won't tell. You have my word."

The boy breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sir."

I nodded and waved for him to go before he was caught.

I wondered idly, as I trudged up to my rooms, whether there were any more secrets hidden in this manor and how far would I be drawn before it was too late?

* * *

A/N: Wahey! Update!!! _does the update dance_ now we've got past this, updates will be more frequent. :)

Thankyou to all you lovely people who have reviwed! Baby!Draco chibi dolls for all!!!

Lily xxx


	8. Part Two 3

The following Sunday, I took Draco to Diagon Alley for ice cream. He'd been avoiding me for the whole of Saturday, probably embarrassed that I had witnessed Narcissa behaving so badly, and I figured the boy needed cheering up and what better way of doing so than with ice-cream?

* * *

I must admit, I did consider informing Lucius of what was going on between Draco and his mother, but it was never mentioned again, (at least, not until later, but that's not for now.) and I put it to the back of my mind. Besides, I had enough trouble to deal with as it was.

Sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour with two bowls that looked at least three feet deep and spoons that reached from here to Knockturn Alley, Draco stared blissfully into the icy depths of chocolate, pistachio and raspberry sauce. I didn't like raspberry, so I had chocolate sauce instead, with coconut ice cream.

Spoon hovering over the creamy perfection, Draco lowered it again and looked at me. I stopped, my own spoon halfway to my mouth, feeling suddenly awkward; the look he was giving me meant he had a question and probably not an easy one, come to that.

"Sir, who's Harry Potter?" My spoon clattered onto the stone, spattering chocolate sauce everywhere in the radius of a metre.

I frowned, "What?"

"Who's Harry Potter?" Draco asked again. "I keep hearing people talk about him and sometimes Father says why can't I be more like Harry Potter 'cause he could do magic as soon as he was born."

"It still hasn't shown up then?" I said sympathetically. Draco glowered into his ice-cream and shook his head.

"It's never going to come," he muttered angrily. "I'm gonna be a squib, I know it!"

"Magic always takes a while to show. True, some people's takes longer than others, but it will turn up in the end."

Despite the bitterness of the subject, I was relived that it had got Draco off the subject of Harry Potter. The name _Potter_ was still a sensitive spot in my mind and I didn't particularly want it prodded.

"So who is he?" Draco prodded, sucking innocently on his spoon.

"A boy," I responded curtly. "Just a boy." Draco looked disappointed, obviously hoping for something a little more exciting than '_just a boy_'.

"Oh…how old is he? What's he like? What are his parents like? Where does he live?"

I hesitated for a moment, choosing my answers carefully. "About your age, I think. Perhaps a bit younger."

This seemed to please Draco, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "That's means we'll be in the same year at school, doesn't it? We'll be friends, won't we? I'm going to have lots of friends when I go to school," he added proudly, pushing his spoon right down to the bottom and pulling it out again with a noise that sounded like a duck stuck in mud.

"I'm sure you will," I said. ""But that's a long way off yet. I wouldn't give it much thought if I was you."

"Five years," agreed Draco thoughtfully. "But Father says it will come fast and I had better be prepared. Father says I may not even go to Hogwarts. He says Durmstrang's better 'cause they don't let in mudbloods and wizard scum like they do at Hogwarts and you get to learn more useful stuff like how to make dark magic." I noticed, suddenly, a pool of melted ice cream and chocolate sauce was forming at the base of my bowl. I mourned the waste of chocolate sauce and began once again on my ice cream, still listening to Draco ramble on.

"Don't you have to take a test or something to get into Durmstrang, though?"

Draco frowned, "I think so…" he said uncertainly. "But I don't know what it is." He hesitated, biting his lip, before admitting quietly, "I don't really want to go there. I want to go to Hogwarts, but Father doesn't approve of the headmaster, he says he's…he's…" Draco searched for the word amongst the vanilla. "Incompetent! Yes, Father says he's incompetent."

"Why don't you want to go to Durmstrang?" I asked curiously. "If your father says it's the best school, why don't you want to go?" Draco eyed me for a moment, debating whether or not he could trust me.

"It sounds scary," he murmured, dropping his eyes quickly to the ground. "Father says that if you're bad they cane you and lock you in a dungeon. Hogwarts sounds nicer anyway. Do you think Harry Potter will go to Hogwarts? 'Cause if he's at Durmstrang I probably wouldn't mind it as much. Do you think he's nice?"

"Draco, I have no idea. I really don't know anything about Harry Potter," I snapped, started to feel quite irritated. "Why are you so curious about him anyway?"

"I told you already, people keep saying his name and Father says, why can't I be more like him. Why does everyone know him? What's he done that's so special?"

My Death-Eater alarm started buzzing loudly in my ears; it wasn't my place to drag Draco into such matters, especially since I distanced myself as much as possible from them.

"He has a scar," I told him, not untruthfully.

Draco frowned, "A scar? I have a scar too," He pulled up his sleeve. "See? It still hasn't gone away. I ought to be famous too!"

I laughed, "No, Draco. It's a curse scar, which isn't quite the same as yours. When Harry Potter was a baby, somebody tried to kill him with a bad spell, but it didn't work and left a scar instead."

Draco looked at me, silver eyes huge with the horror of such a notion. "Why would somebody want to kill a baby? It couldn't have done anything that bad. Did they try to kill his parents too? Had they done bad things?"

'_Yes,'_ said my memory, '_They were evil people who deserved to die! '_But to say that wouldn't be fair on Draco. It was Lucius who corrupted his mind, not me.

"His parents are dead, but I don't know why they were killed. "

Draco shivered; looking quite sickened, and pushed his bowl away. "I don't think I want anymore," he mumbled. "So…so who does he live with now, if his mother and father are dead?"

"Muggles," I told him with a hint of disgust.

"Muggles?" Draco exclaimed in disbelief. "Why? Does he like them? Father says they're filthy and sub-human, why would he want to live with muggles?" I shrugged, unable to answer. Personally, the thought of living in the muggle world repulsed me, but that was simply down to personal experience. Not all muggles were uncivilised, violent creatures, although the majority were.

"To be honest, I don't think he has a choice. They're the only family he has."

At this, Draco pulled a face. "You mean he's part _muggle_?" I flushed and simply nodded. I wasn't quite sure how I felt at Draco's reaction to half-bloods, it didn't bother me especially, but a sharp pang of uneasiness shot through y gut at his words, as innocently said as it was.

"Don't you want to be friends with him anymore?"

"I don't know," said Draco, shrugging. "Maybe. But I don't think Father would want me to," he thought for a moment. "But if he's famous, then maybe that would be all right. Yes," Draco decided, smiling happily. "I think it _would_ be okay. We're going to be best friends!"

* * *

I wish I knew then what we both know now; how much trouble the boy called Potter would cause us. But neither of us could've known nor been prepared. But that story is not for here nor is it my place to tell it. If you want a story about Harry Potter, you are reading the wrong thing.

Life continued as normal, or at least as normal as it was going to get in Malfoy Manor. I tutored Draco in whatever was requested of me, either by my young student or his damnable father and over time Draco became quite the little scholar, showing off, when the mood took him, with big words even though he didn't know what they meant.

Lucius became more irritable, more easily angered, partly because of work which, according to him, was becoming increasingly more demanding but mostly because Draco _still_ wasn't showing any signs of magic. Of course, being a Malfoy, it was completely out of the question that it wouldn't show itself at some point. It just seemed to be taking its time.

"Why can't you be more like Harry Potter?" Lucius would snarl every time the subject came up. "He was able to do magic when he was only a baby! Look at you, you're nothing better than a mudblood."

Draco met these cold remarks with a mumbled apology and a promise that he would try to be better; _more like Harry Potter._ But he could see that his father's words hurt him deeply and I had a feeling that, by the time Draco was eleven, he wouldn't be so eager to become friends with the boy he was so often compared to, particularly if things kept going the way they were.

"What's so special about Harry Potter anyway?" Draco burst out angrily one day when he had been waving his practise wand around with no result. "You said yourself that he was just a boy. Why does Father want me to be like him? He doesn't even know him!" He threw the wand to the ground and sat down sulkily on his bed. "I bet he can't even do _any_ magic. People are just making it up."

"But I'm sure you're better at flying than he is," I put in, hoping to cheer him up.

At this, Draco smiled. "Yes," he said confidently. "I'm the best at that. Even Father says I'm good. Any way, if Harry Potter lives with muggles, he probably doesn't even know what Quidditch is," the boy shuddered. "Imagine! He must get so bored. When we go to school, he won't really know anything about Wizards and such will he? So I'll have to help him. I'll have to teach about Quidditch and how to fly. Then everybody will want to be friends with me, because Harry Potter will be my best friend."

I was glad that Draco finally had something to look forward to, despite it being over five years away. I wasn't concerned for him though, who's to say it wouldn't happen anyway? It was perfect conceivable that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter would become best friends, although it was just as possible for them not to be…only time would tell.

* * *

Greetings! I told you I'd start updating faster ;) This was just a filler chapter and aslo i wanted to write about Harry Potter, and this was the only place i could really put it. Hope you liked it and keep reviewing!

Love Lily xxx


	9. Part Two 4

Despite the horror stories told by idealistic parents to their impressionable children about a snake-man that would come and eat them in the night if they misbehaved, Lord Voldemort was not a hideous monster; he had retained much of his former beauty, albeit having blood-red eyes that glowed ominously when upset or angry.

No matter what the misinformed public thought, death-eaters were death-eaters because they chose to be, not because they were forced, blackmailed, or tortured into doing so, but because they genuinely respected and trusted the man we called 'Master'. And believe me when I tell you, a Slytherin would not call a man master lightly. We had our pride.

We joined together for a common cause; to rid the Wizarding World of mudbloods and wizard scum. Each of us had our reasons; some, like myself, had been tormented by muggle 'relatives' who, under their misguided impressions of wizards and magic, tried to 'beat the Devil out of us'. Others who had formerly been at the height of Wizarding society were now angry and resentful of the ever increasing popularity of muggleborns and considered it an offence that these intruders were permitted to take over the 'territory', so to speak, that had been undeniably theirs.

We were not, popular to common belief, a bunch of psychos who went around murdering people for no good reason. Well, at least not until later, but I was well away from it by then. But I am rambling again and I promised that I wouldn't do that.

I had done my best not to bring the subject of death-eaters and their ideals in our lessons, not wanting to influence Draco's decision about what he would do in the future, particularly if something went wrong. But one day, out of the blue, Lucius mentioned that the Dark Lord was coming to visit, primarily to meet Draco. I, of course, protested; he was still too young. He'd be terrified. What if he angered the Dark Lord? Lucius simply waved my concerns aside, assuring me that nothing would go wrong.

"Besides," he said, "Even I wouldn't dare cancel an arrangement with Lord Voldemort. Draco will be fine, he knows better than to misbehave in company, particularly in important company." He glanced up, "I _have_ spoken to Draco about this, Severus, it's not as though I am springing this upon him. He has been instructed explicitly on what to do and what not to do. I would _not_ subject my son to this lightly, no matter what you think of me."

* * *

_**May 6th 1987**_

"…You will speak only when you are permitted to do so, say nothing otherwise."

Lucius spoke in a hurried whisper, his fingers fumbling with the clasps of Draco's cloak. " If you are asked a question, keep your answer short and concise and leave it at that." Draco nodded silently, chewing his thumb absently. "And for Merlin's sake, take that blasted thumb out of your mouth! You are not a baby, Draco," Lucius snapped, slapping it out of the boy's mouth.

I could tell that he was more anxious than angry, but that didn't stop Draco casting a fearful look up, anticipating something more but Lucius just grabbed him by the arm and led him into the living room where the Dark Lord was making small talk with Narcissa, who had graciously decided to make an appearance. They were sipping tea from the china that Lucius' mother had presented her daughter-in-law with for a wedding present' a present Lucius despised wholeheartedly

"Lucius." The Dark Lord rose gracefully, inclining his head towards Lucius, "And you must be Draco." He spoke softly, his voice hardly more than a purr. A slight smile graced his features as his ruby eyes swept over my little godson, clutching at a handful of his father's cloak tightly in his fist. "Such a pretty boy. You have done well Lucius."

Lucius bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord."

The Dark Lord smiled, showing rows of sharp, pearly white teeth "But is he as pretty inside?" he continued, sitting back down again, "Come here, boy and let me look at you."

Draco hesitated, shrinking back slightly, but Lucius pushed him forward, forcing him over to the Dark Lord, his face passive.

Draco moved slowly, unsure what he was supposed to do or where he was supposed to look. I wasn't scared for him, though; the Dark Lord was compassionate, he wouldn't hurt one of his own unless there was a reason for doing so and this was even more so in the case of a child. I only hoped that Draco would do nothing to anger him…

The Dark Lord tilted Draco's head gently up and traced his jawbone with a single, slender finger, all the while holding the little boy's gaze with his own. Draco's head was turned this way and that as Lord Voldemort examined him, his nails scratching lightly over Draco's features. The Dark Lord was not smiling anymore, instead his expression was hard and gaze intent, pushing and pushing into the boy's mind until…

Draco whimpered, tears springing into his eyes and tried to shrink away, but the Dark Lord hushed him and held a hand up to his face, keeping where he was as he searched Draco's mind.

Lucius and I watched from the sideline, the elder Malfoy's fists were clenched by his side. I could tell that he wanted to snatch Draco back, but he didn't dare. Neither of us could do anything but watch in silence.

"Intelligent," the Dark Lord murmured suddenly, "You have taught him well, Severus. Obedient too… but he has no spirit." He shot Lucius a look, "You have spoiled this boy, Lucius."

"I can assure you my lord, I have in no way-,"

"I said _spoiled_, Malfoy," the Dark Lord snapped impatiently, eyes flashing. "Not spoilt. Draco has been telling me that you haven't been treating him properly." Lucius shot Draco a quick, warning look, and then turned back to the Dark Lord with a tight-lipped smile.

"You know how children are; they don't understand what's good for them. Particularly if they are used to getting their own way. Draco knows his boundaries and if he decides to cross them, then he knows also that he will be punished. With respect, my lord, I hardly think that that could be considered 'mistreatment'." I kept my mouth shut. I seemed to be getting rather good at that…

The Dark Lord shrugged as though to say, _'If you say so.'_

Releasing his hold on Draco, he stood up and made to leave, pausing briefly by Lucius to hiss, "I want an heir, Malfoy. I have no use for a broken child with a crushed spirit. Might I suggest you bare that in mind?" Then, with a swish and a flick and a swirl of dark material, the Dark Lord disapparated.

"Well, that certainly went splendidly didn't it?" I mused. Unfortunately, Lucius didn't seem to agree,

"You vindictive little _brat_!" he snarled, rounding on Draco, eyes blazing "Do you have _any_ idea what you have just done?"

Draco shook his head slowly, watching his father tremulously; apprehensive of what was going to happen. His eyes flicked to me every so often, wide and pleading but I knew that now was not the time to comfort him, as much as I wanted to. _'Later,'_ I thought to him, _'Just hold on, Dragon.'_

Draco yelped as Lucius' hand threaded through the air and gripped a handful of the boy's white-blonde hair, yanking him forwards.

"What did you say to him?"

"P-please…"

"I told you to say nothing!" This was accompanied by a hard shake, making Draco give a little whimper of pain, "I told you to keep your silence!"

"I did! I did!" Draco protested grasping helplessly at the much stronger hand, "Please Father…I-I didn't say anything…r-really I didn't…"

"Liar!" The furious man raised his free hand to slap his little boy, the sound of the hit making me cringe inwardly.

"He…he w-went into my mind." Draco cried desperately, his hand held up to a now brilliantly pink cheek, "I-I-I tried to b-block him, honest I did…but-but he pushed and pushed an'….an' he b-broke in…please Sir it's not my fault…he made me see things…things that happened before…but I didn't say! I-I'd never say…ow!" Lucius pushed him away contemptuously. Draco stumbled and almost fell, but steadied himself quickly.

"Go upstairs Draco. We will talk then." Lucius said, the cold voice, slippery and completely void of any emotion. Draco froze, and then began to tremble, his back pressed against the wall as though in an attempt to melt through it,

"No Father, please…"

"_Draco_."

I watched, completely powerless, as my precious godson bowed his head meekly in submission and walked stiffly into the hall, his hands clasped firmly behind his back in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

"That was _completely_ unreasonable!" I snapped, turning angrily on my 'best friend', "How on earth can you berate him for _that_?"

"He disobeyed me."

"It wasn't his fault! You saw yourself that Draco never uttered a word in the Dark Lord's presence!"

Lucius scowled. "The boy humiliated me in front Lord Voldemort and I intend to make him pay, whatever you may think. Now, if you don't mind." He turned on his heal, but I was to quick and grabbed hold of his sleeve,

"No! I won't let you do this! It isn't fair! He has done nothing wrong!"

"Do you think I care?" Lucius demanded, shrugging me off. His refined features were distorted horribly with anger. He was losing control,. "He is _my_ son and I shall do what I like with him! It is neither yours nor anyone else's business how I treat Draco so keep your nose out of it, Severus. If you don't like it, you know perfectly well that you can leave."

I don't believe that I had ever hated anyone as much as I hated Lucius just then. Well, maybe…but not often. He knew perfectly well that I wouldn't leave no matter how angry he made me. I knew, also, that if I _did_ leave, I would never be allowed back again and I would never see Draco. I was, as ever, between a rock and a very hard place.

"And I don't want you going to him later either," Lucius continued, his voice laced with malice. "You completely undermine me when you do that." He thought for a moment, "Perhaps, if you disciplined him on occasion, none of this would've happened. Perhaps if you taught him better…" His lip curled into an unpleasant smile, "I trust that it is still in your room?"

"It is under my bed and it will stay there," I replied curtly, "I was rather hoping that the mice would eat it, but even they seem to find it distasteful."

Lucius sneered, "Well, then it's lucky that neither of us are mice, isn't it? Now," he shoved me aside, "_out_ of my way."

Of course I followed, almost running to keep up with him. I knew that I had to stop him from hurting Draco; I had never seen him this angry before and to be honest, it seemed to me that once he'd started on the boy, he'd lose control completely and Merlin only knows what would happen then…

But instead of marching straight into Draco's room as I had expected, Lucius stopped suddenly outside the door and turned slowly to look me directly in the eye.

"I have a proposition for you Severus," he said with a somewhat manic smile. For some reason that didn't make me feel any better. "I'm not going to punish Draco."

My head snapped up, "What?"

Lucius smirked, "I'm not going to punish Draco," he repeated, "you are."

* * *

Ba ba ba buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmm...etc.

After the next chapter I probably won't be updating so frequently, but i promise to try :)

Thankyou lovely reviewers, Riddle plushies for all!

Lily xxx


	10. Part Two 5

_**When this began  
I had nothing to say  
And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me **_

_**I was confused  
And I let it all out to find  
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind  
Inside of me  
But all the vacancy the words revealed  
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel **_

_**Nothing to lose  
Just stuck/ hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real  
I wanna let go of the pain I've held so long  
Erase all the pain till it's gone  
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real  
I wanna find something I've wanted all along  
Somewhere I belong **_

And I've got nothing to say  
I can't believe I didn't fall right down on my face  
I was confused  
Looking everywhere only to find  
That it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind  
So what am I  
What do I have but negativity  
'Cause I can't justify the way, everyone is looking at me  
Nothing to lose  
Nothing to gain/ hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

I will never know myself until I do this on my own  
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed  
I will never be anything till I break away from me  
I will break away, I'll find myself today

I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong  
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong  
Somewhere I belong.

* * *

For a moment I could hear nothing apart from a low buzzing in my head which, after a while, started to hurt quite badly. Maybe if I just stood here and didn't say or do anything I'd wake up and it would all be a dream…yes, that would be nice….

"You will go to your room, fetch the stick and be back here in two minutes," Lucius continued icily, "and then you will teach my son obedience. A lesson you ought to have taught him a long time ago. "

"I am doing no such thing…"

"You are if you want to stay here," Lucius retorted. "And if you walk away now, I can guarantee that you will never have any contact with Draco again." He shrugged. "It's your choice, Severus." He turned sharply on his heel, "I shall return in a while."

I stood there, paralysed for Merlin knows how long, my mind and conscience battling consistently with one another. I couldn't run away, not now after everything that had happened but what choice did I have when the only alternative was to whip Draco and go back on everything I had ever promised him. All those reassurances that I wasn't going to hit him would be for nothing…but to never see him again, to leave him here on his own…that would be just as painful. I could have screamed with frustration!

Maybe…maybe he'd understand. If I talked to him, explained everything, perhaps it would be all-right…

'_Don't be naïve,'_ said the little voice in my head, '_He's six years old. How can you possibly expect him to understand? The only thing Draco will understand is that the only person he's ever properly trusted has lied and betrayed him. Just as he always knew you would.'_

I told it to go stick itself somewhere, although I knew that it was right. But what choice did I have?

* * *

I trudged back down the hall with a heavy heart, using every ounce of self-control not to snap the damnable thing in my hands into a thousand minuscule shards. The leather handle of the stick was already hot and sticky from my clenched fists.

Draco's head whipped around as the door swung shut behind me, his expression tense and frightened. Suddenly, I was transported back to my own childhood; hours of lying on my bed, just lying there and waiting for that _thump…thump…_of my father's boots on the uncarpeted stairs.

Remembering back to the terror I felt then and the fear in my little godson's eyes made me hate myself all the more for what I was about to do. Draco's lips twitched into a sort of half relieved, half-confused smile as he registered who it was.

"Sir, what are you…?" But the sentence was never completed. He gasped, blue-grey eyes growing wide with horror as he recognised what I was holding

"No no no…" he whimpered, cringing as far back as the wall would allow. "N-not you Sir! Please…please not you!"

"Draco, listen-"

"You promised!" Draco cried. "You promised you didn't hit! You…you said it was wrong…to-to hit kids…you said it should b-be illegal…" With every word, his voice was getting shriller and shriller, hysteria bubbling to the surface. "Please…please…"

"Dragon, you _have_ to listen to me now," I said desperately, laying the stick at my feet and holding out my hands. "See? I won't hurt you." Draco glared at me warily, like a cornered animal, frightened eyes glancing at the object of terror set between us on the floor. Carefully, I stepped over it and sat down on the edge of the bed,

"Why are you doing this?" the boy whispered. "I-I don't…I don't understand."

"I haven't a choice," I told him. "If I don't do this I can never see you again. Can't you see that?"

Draco bowed his head, hugging his knees tight. His young face was contorted into a teary grimace and he began to rock himself back and forth in an effort to keep his tears at bay. But, for the first time since I had met him, my godson was unable to and, finally, all the tears he had so bravely kept locked away coursed down his cheeks and he dissolved into sobs.

I had always known that this moment would come, he would have to let go sooner or later, but never had I ever considered that _I_ would be the final push towards the edge. I was so surprised and unprepared, I simply sat and watched Draco for several minutes, waiting, I think, for him to regain control of himself, but the hurt was too much and his sobs were becoming more and more hysterical.

I reached over and pulled the little boy's soggy form into my lap and held him against my chest. Draco did not protest, as I had feared he might, instead I could feel a dull pain were his fingers wrapped around my arm, clinging to me as he wept inconsolably into my shirt.

Many minutes passed, my arm was numb and my shirt was wet with salty tears, yet still Draco showed no signs of stopping. He cried hard, but not in the hysterical manner in which he'd started, instead it was the steady, helpless sobs of somebody who is trapped and can't find a way out. I simply sat and rocked him back and forth, rubbing his back and burying my face in his limp, silvery hair.

Ultimately, the tears stopped as eventually they had to, and Draco was reduced to nothing more than a shivery, soggy lump that lay in my arms, exhausted. We were both awash with the tears and mucus that crying always brings. The atmosphere around us was humid. I reached down and smoothed the damp hair away from Draco's face.

"Do you feel a little bit better now?" He didn't say anything, but lay against me, his thin body convulsing with shaky gasps as he tried to breathe properly.

"I-I'm…" Draco tried to speak, but couldn't quite form the words properly. He took a deep breath and tried again, "I-I-I'm sorry…" He raised his young eyes to mine, chewing his lip worriedly.

"Don't be," I said. "There's no shame in crying. Especially for you."

Draco grimaced. "Hurts," he whimpered. "It hurts Sir." My mind wandered back to those first few nights, so long ago now, and I remembered what he'd said when I'd asked him why it was that he didn't cry.

'_Nobody can hurt me that way,'_ he'd replied, _'If they don't see me crying, I don't get hurt so bad.'_

"Your body isn't used to crying and your chest must be quite strained from all of that. Just take it slowly and I'm sure the pain will go away soon." The boy nodded and lay back, closing his eyes and gradually I felt his body relax and ease up.

"I can hear your heart," he murmured.

I barely registered what Draco had said; I knew that this was far from over, the worst was still yet to come and neither of us was out of the nightmare yet. I only prayed that he would forget and leave us alone, at least until tomorrow. I couldn't bare the thought of Draco being so badly upset again in one night and I don't think my heart could take being shattered again. I toyed, for a fleeting moment, with the possibility of kidnapping Draco, but that would simply delay the inevitable and exacerbate what would happen anyway. It would be so easy though, just to take a train to the sea, live in a cheap hotel and live of fish and chips eaten out of newspaper…the novelty would wear off quickly.

"How very touching." Draco cried out in alarm, jerking back to hide his face in my shirt. I glared up at the man standing so arrogantly in the doorway; blocking our way out. There was no point lying to myself any more; I was scared.

Lucius' lip curled into a smile as he looked down on us. "I knew you wouldn't have the guts to go through with it," he sneered. "You have always let your emotions get in the way of what is important."

"And what do _you_ think is important, Lucius?" I snapped, adjusting Draco in my lap. "Because it seems to me that our definitions of 'important' differ somewhat from each other. So, please, enlighten me."

His eyes flashed with cold, hard steel and in a single stride, Lucius was crouched down in front of us, teeth bared,

"If my memory is correct, there was a time, Severus, when you didn't give a damn about the boy. Do you remember that? It was only when I _forced_ you that you even looked at him for the first time and even then you disliked him. So don't you _dare_ get all righteous with me, because you aren't exactly perfect yourself."

"At least I don't pretend to be. If all those people at the ministry knew what kind of a person you really were, you'd never be respected again." To my surprise and anger, Lucius laughed.

"You really are naïve, Severus. Two things; one, it is important to keep one's domestic life separate from work and two, you know very well that my particular way of parenting is not uncommon in pure-blooded society," he sighed, "I suppose it's what comes of being only _half_ a wizard."

I couldn't control myself any longer; I punched him. There wasn't as much blood as I would've liked, but the amount was adequate enough to cause me a sadistic satisfaction and I did not regret doing it, and still don't to this day.

Draco made a strange noise, somewhere between a cry of horror and a snort of amusement as Lucius staggered back, clutching his nose and glaring at us murderously. It shouldn't have been funny, but it was. Unfortunately, Lucius didn't seem to have a sense of humour at that particular moment in time

In a single movement, he had yanked Draco from me, literally shaking with anger. "Hypocrite!" Lucius spat, eyes blazing. "You think you're better than us? You think yourself above our traditions?" he turned sharply to Draco, who shrank back slightly. "Remove your shirt, Draco." My student shot me a quick, petrified look, chewing his bottom lip furiously, then bowed his head submissively and slowly undid his buttons with trembling fingers.

Lucius glanced from his son to me with a curl of his lip and shoved the cane into my hands. "Do it," he hissed. He made a gesture towards Draco, who placed his small hands on the child's desk, standing in the corner and bent slightly at the waist. Marks of previous abuse stood out blatantly across his back, some were scars of probably many years ago and some were obviously more recent. I closed my eyes, trying to block this out, hoping that, when I opened them again, all this would disappear…but, of course, it didn't. Tears rolled freely down Draco's nose and splashed onto the desk, his body convulsed with quiet sobs of helplessness.

"Do it," Lucius said again, pushing me towards the boy. I shook my head numbly, No. No I couldn't do it…I couldn't! "Coward," the blonde man hissed in my ear. "You're nothing but a half-blood and a coward. You don't deserve to be called a Wizard." I knew that he only said those things to goad me, to make angry.

And he succeeded.

"I'm not a coward!" I snarled.

Lucius smirked, "Then prove it."

I raised the cane high over my shoulder and, for the worst possible reason, brought it down hard across Draco's back. It was only once…only one hit…but it was enough. The stick snapped as it made contact and opened old wounds, drawing blood. Draco wailed and collapsed, his legs giving way beneath him.

My own legs felt as though they were made of water as the reality of what I had just done dawned on me. I had hit a child and Draco of all people…the sight of my precious godson sobbing on the floor with blood trickling down his back- blood that _I_ had caused- made me gag. I through the thin piece of leather-bound wood that I was still holding to the ground and ran out, not stopping until I reached my room and threw up into the toilet.

I knew, then, that I couldn't stay there any longer, not after that. Not after what I had just done. I had to get away from there.

* * *

I made my departure later that same evening, with as little fuss as was possible, leaving a note for Draco on my desk.

I spoke briefly with Lucius, declaring my immediate resignation and he was at least gracious enough to promise a good reference. Despite, he said, being far too righteous for my own good and that it would probably get me into trouble one day. I pointed out, somewhat coolly, that it allready had and that was the reason why I was leaving. Lucius' response to this was to simply wave me out of his office and wish me luck.

"And don't forget," he said turning to his paperwork, "to close the door on your way out."

* * *

A/N: And there we go. Snape's reaction in HBP when Harry called him a coward interested me so I thought I'd inlcude it :)

Next chapter might be a while as it is currantly being collabarated(sp?) with perfectpureblood.

Love Lily xxx


	11. Interlude

A/N: Thankyou most extremely to** PerfectPureBlood** for being a wonderful Snape! We had such a fun time doing this :) 

**

* * *

**

**Interlude **

_**I can recall the sound of the wind  
As it blew through the trees and the trees would bend  
I can recall the smell of the rain  
On a hot summer night  
Coming through the screen**_

_**I'd crawl in your bed when the lightning flashed  
And I'd still be there when the storm had passed  
Dead to the world, to the morning cast  
Its light all around your room**_

_**We lived on an estate where the tall elm shade  
Was as green as the grass and as cool as a blade  
That you held in your teeth as we lay on our backs  
Staring up at the blue and the blue stared back**_

_**I used to believe we were just like those trees  
We'd grow just as tall and as proud as we pleased  
With our feet on the ground and our arms in the breeze  
Under a sheltering sky**_

_**Twirl me about, and twirl me around  
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground  
And when I look up at you looking down,  
Don't say it was just a dream**_

_**There was a big fight in our house one day  
Then you packed your suitcase and moved away  
Your room was no longer next door to mine  
But I kept on believing you'd come back in time**_

_**Twirl me about and twirl me around  
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground  
When I look up at you looking down  
Don't say it was just a dream**_

_**The day you left home you got an early start  
I watched from the stairs as you left in the dark  
I opened the door to your room down the hall  
I turned on the light  
And all that I saw  
Was a bed and a desk and couple of tacks  
No sign of someone who expects to be back**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**March 7th 1987**_

_My dearest Draco,_

_Firstly, I apologise for not saying goodbye properly to you although, had I done so, I'm not sure I would have been able to leave at all._

_Secondly, and most importantly, I am sure that you hate me right now and I completely understand if you do; my actions this evening were inexcusable and I shan't make excuses for myself or try to condone what I did. I am truly sorry though and I hope that you will be able to forgive me one day._

_I wish you all my luck and whatever happens now, I want you to remember, Draco, no matter what anyone else tells you and there is somebody out there who cares about you very much and always will no matter what._

_If you ever need somebody to talk to, even if it's just to get something of your chest, please don't hesitate to pick up a pen and write to me._

_I remain, as ever, faithfully yours,_

_Severus Snape 'Sir'_

* * *

I moped around my home for days afterwards, not being able to concentrate on any single task for more than ten minutes before a strong feeling of either guilt, regret or simply pure discontentment set in and I would be forced to so something else to try to clear my head.

I was about to go completely insane, and I am being entirely serious when I say that, when, just over a week after my hasty departure, an owl I recognised as Draco's flew through my window and dropped a hastily scrawled note into my lap, then it perched itself on the back of my chair to await my reply.

I unfolded the parchment with unsteady fingers, almost dreading what my godson was going to say to me. But even if it was a letter full of hate, at least I had a reply.

* * *

_Sir,_

_Why did you leave? I know you said it was because you hit me but it can't just have been that. Was it me? Was it because I ask too many questions? Because if it is, I promise I'll be good from now on and I'll do everything you tell me to, only please come back._

_Please don't leave me here by myself, I don't want to be alone, I don't want things to go back to how they were before you came. I don't want to be alone again and I haven't anyone except you, you were the only one I could really trust and now I haven't anybody._

_And…and I'm scared, Sir. I'm scared what will happen now you aren't here. I know you didn't think you made any difference with Father but at least were there afterwards._

_Please come back, I need you!_

_Draco_

* * *

Dearest Draco,

Please, don't you ever feel that you are to blame, because none of this is your fault, always remember that it wasn't you. I left there are demons inside of me that I need to overcome, and I can't risk hurting you again, I don't know what I'm capable of and I'm ashamed of what I did to you.

I'm sorry, but I cannot come back. You are stronger then you know and you'll be surprised on what strength you can find in yourself when you need it..

You'll never be alone; I'll always be there, even though you can't see me, write to me anytime you want, with anything you want, and I promise that we will see each other again.

Draco, please don't be scared. You'll be ok, just keep your head down.

Yours,

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Sir,_

_I don't believe it wasn't my fault, at least, it must have been partly. And if it's not me, who's fault is it? 'Cause it must've been somebody's. Was it Father? 'Cause if it was he might say sorry and then you'd be able to come back..._

_Do you really not want to be here? Are you're demons telling you not to, 'cause if they are you could just tell them to be quiet and do what you want to do anyway._

_Thank you for letting me write to you and saying that I'm strong, even though I know I'm not really. I do try though, to be strong I mean, but it's hard, specially now you're not here. I know you said I could write but it's not the same, it's kind of like talking to myself, and isn't that what crazy people do?_

_I always try an' keep my head down, but you know what Father's like. He's advertising for a new tutor in the Prophet this weekend, I'm sort of nervous about what the new one will be like. I hope they're nice. Are you going to get a new job?_

_Draco_

* * *

Draco,

I need you to tell me that you don't believe that it's your fault, you have to know that. I must say, I consider your father is to blame, he is a controlling and violent man and no father should hit his children. But I'm afraid Lucius refuses to see it that way.

Draco, sometimes I forget how young you are, these demons, they are things I can't just order around, they control me, they're shadows of things that I cannot erase, wounds I cannot heal, do you understand? I promise I'll explain it to you one day.

I suppose you could see it that way, but just imagine me reading over your shoulder, pretend that you're really talking to me.

Oh, is he? Well, I wish him luck with that. And I do hope wholeheartedly that he or she is kind to you.

Me? Well, we'll see. I'm thinking of applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, although I don't expect it to come to much.

Severus.

* * *

_Sir,_

_But it's not Father's fault! He doesn't know it's wrong to hit and if it was he wouldn't do it, I know he wouldn't! And how can you say it's wrong when you did it yourself? You're just like him! No, you're worse 'cause you ran away when you promised you wouldn't! You said you'd look after me and you lied!_

_I knew you were just like the others but I kept telling myself that you weren't. I suppose I was wrong again, wasn't I?_

_I'm not that young and you said I understood a lot for my age, but I guess you weren't telling the truth there either…what kind of things are they? If you told me, I might be able to understand._

_Thanks, but I don't 'spect they will be, Father says he doesn't want to make the same mistake as he did with you, so he's going to be very careful with who he picks this time._

_Draco._

* * *

Draco,

Your father knows full well what he's doing

I know, I stooped to his level and it was wrong I lost control and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Draco, please don't feel resentment toward me, if I could be with you I would, but I can't face it.

Please Draco, I haven't broken my promise, I will look after you. You may think like this now, but you have to trust yourself, I cannot force you to believe me. I just hope that in time you will realise who cares about you and who doesn't.

I see. Well, you will tell me what this new tutor is like, won't you?

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Sir_

_Don't be sorry, I'll be okay, really I will. Like you said, I am strong, I suppose I'll just have to try to be stronger. Don't worry about me._

_Please don't lie to me anymore, you can't look after me when you're not here, but I don't mind. I can look after myself and I'll be able to do it better now than before you came 'cause I'm older. I'm trying to stay in my room as much as possible now, like you said, I should keep my head down so I'm trying to stay out of the way when Father's home._

_Draco_

* * *

Draco,

I know you'll be ok, I know you can cope, and know that I'm so proud of you for that. So proud of your strength and of the young man you are becoming.

I'll be with you in spirit, and whenever you want to contact me know that you can.

That is very wise, stay with what your doing, and keep me informed, I want to know everything that man does.

Severus.

* * *

_Sir,_

_I know you'll always be in my mind, but it's not the same! I need you here! Please Sir, you don't understand, you don't know what it's like here without you. I hate being alone, I hate it so much especially at night and I am trying really hard to be strong but I get so scared_

_And…Please I can't do it anymore; I just want you to come back, just for a day…please…I hate it here so much!_

* * *

Draco,

I know, dragon, I know. I understand how hard it is for you, but you must see it through! That's what makes you strong in later life, this is what moulds you! I know it's tough and unfair but I can't fight your battles for you. You have to do this on your own

Maybe for a day but I don't know…I can't promise anything. How would you like to come out? Away from the house? Write back with your decision.

Severus.

* * *

_Severus,_

_I want you to stop writing to Draco; the boy's been upset enough already without you giving him false hopes. If you wish to have further contact with him, although I must say I can't see why he should ever want to speak to you again, you will go through me first._

_I don't pretend not to know that I am partly to blame for this mess, but it isn't just me Severus, as well you know. Before you came, whilst he certainly wasn't happy, Draco accepted how things were and then you came along and messed with his mind, making him want things he's never going to have. You've hurt the boy more than I ever have and writing to him is just making things worse. After your last letter, I caught him crying in his room. He hasn't cried for years and it's down to you that he's learnt how to now._

_For Draco's sake, leave him alone._

_Lucius Malfoy._

* * *

Lucius,

How dare you! You were the one that made me hit him; you're the one keeping me from seeing him! You abuse him, physically and emotionally! You're all to blame for this! You've crushed him, broken his spirit and stolen his childhood! He has no reason to "accept" things the way they are, he deserves to feel safe and loved! And he only felt that when I was around! I made him remember that he is human, children are supposed to cry Lucius! He can't bottle his emotions up like he is! Let him be normal!

I admit I have hurt him, and I hate myself for it, but at least I feel remorse, I'm trying to make it better, how can I not write to him, for all I know your destroying him! I don't want him to become bitter, like we did.

Though I have to hatefully admit, you have rights to him so I need your permission, but I think its in his best interest that he has contact with someone who actually cares about him. But it is up to him ultimately, if he doesn't want to talk to me I will accept that, but if I have upset I want to know why and I want to solve it.

Severus Snape

* * *

_Severus,_

_You know, I didn't actually physically force you to hit my son, you did that of your own accord I simply…pointed you in the right direction. I did, also, offer you an alternative. You chose to cane him and no one made you run away afterwards. Poor little Draco, beaten by the only person he's ever trusted and then abandoned in the hands of his evil, abusive father. You really need to sort yourself out Severus._

_Who says I don't care for the boy? If that were true, he'd most likely be dead by now. Just because I am strict with him, doesn't mean I don't care. Quite the opposite, in fact. Letting children run wild and think that they are in charge will only damage them, they need to know their place. It didn't do either of us any harm._

_Don't you dare presume to know what are in my own son's best interests! I am his father, I know what's best for him! And I think we both know that you don't really care for Draco after all, you did run away when he needed you most._

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

Oh, Lucius, you really are a vindictive snake. The right direction? Hitting a child is never the "right direction". And as for a so-called 'alternative', you gave me nothing! How could I have chosen to never see my godson ever again!? That wasn't an option! You may not have forced my hand literally, but you forced my hand figuratively!

You are an abusive evil person, you don't deserve to be called a father! You twist the truth and poison people with your lies!

. And maybe your right, that's why I ran away, I couldn't face what I did, I do need to sort myself out, but at least I admit it. Lets look at you for a second? Abuses his son and has no relationship with his wife?

That is the saddest thing I have ever heard, "if I didn't care for him he'd be dead." You don't know what compassion and affection is, you don't care for him in the slightest, you only care for an image, a little carbon copy that you can show off like a trophy. Draco is a child, not your possession to mould. Strict is one thing, I'm strict, you are beyond that. You are cruel.

I agree you need to enforce a sense of discipline, but not by physical abuse, by respect and compromise, Draco would never "run wild" you just need to talk to him. Have you ever just sat down and talked to your son? If you think it didn't do us any harm then just look at your self in the mirror, look at your hands bearing your son's blood and you might consider retracting that statement.

You don't know what's best for him, you know what's best for you, not him! I know more about your son then you do! How does that make you feel? Of course I care about him. I agree at first I didn't know him well, but now I care for him like a son. And I want you to tell him that. You know why I left, you drove me to it.

Severus Snape.

* * *

_My dear Severus, _

_You do make me laugh! How can you possibly lecture me about the relationship I have with my family, particularly Narcissa, when you have absolutely nobody? I'll have you know that my relationship with my wife is a very good one._

_Well, I suppose one might say that I didn't give you much option, but what really amuses me is the fact that you ran away after you did what I had asked. Really Severus, I thought you were intelligent, if you had really taken the time to think about things instead of diving head first into everything, you might have realised that you needn't have hit Draco in the first place if all you were going to do afterwards was to run away._

_For the millionth time, I do not abuse Draco! He would be little better than a muggle if ii didn't come down hard on him when he disobeys me. That's exactly the reason why muggles are so primitive; they aren't allowed to hit their children. I guarantee, if these foolish 'child protection acts' were abolished, he muggle world would be a much better place._

_What you fail to understand, Severus, is that Draco does belong to me. He is my property. He owes his very life to me. Perhaps if Narcissa showed a little more interest in the boy I might feel less need to mould his, as you put it. _

_There's no point trying to talk to him, he's seven years old for Merlin's sake! He doesn't understand anything. And when did anyone ever get anywhere with bringing up children by simply talking to them? Children need to be physically shown their place or they'll never do as they're told. _

_Coincidentally, I have had several replies to my advert, as I am sure Draco has told you. I am sure they will prove satisfactory and won't question my authority as you did._

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

Don't patronise me.

That's true, I don't, but when I get into a relationship I'm going to do it for love, not for carrying on a family line, that's the only reason you married Narcissa, if you think what you have with her is a good relationship then you really haven't got a clue.

You might say?! You will say! I had to, I couldn't face what I did, I couldn't risk hurting Draco, I couldn't risk becoming like you, if you could persuade me to do that, what else would you try to force me to do!

Don't talk to me about intelligence, any intelligent man wouldn't strike his child, wouldn't treat his son's back like a canvas. How was I supposed to know it would go that far?

Yes Lucius Malfoy, you do. You come down hard on him with a staff in your hand. Primitive? Oh Lucius, you are what they would call primitive! Resorting to physical abuse, I have said it before, you can discipline successfully without hurting a child! Draco is afraid of you! How can you even utter those words, you sick little man! Did you enjoy the beatings? Did you?!

I can't believe what I'm hearing, a child is not your property! Draco will never "belong" to you! He is not a broomstick! Maybe you're right there, Narcissa certainly isn't the best mother in the world, far from it, I suppose it must be hard to raise a child basically on your own, but you aren't doing a very good job.

Oh, Lucius, you have just confirmed what I said, if you took a second and tried to talk to him you would discover what an intelligent, mature boy he is, you should be proud of him, he understands a lot more then you know, he's better then you give him credit for.

That isn't true! Draco knows "his place" you've already enforced that.

Well then I'm very happy for you, good luck in trying to get Draco to talk to them.

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus,_

_I'll have you know, I love Narcissa very much, just because we don't going around holding hands, doesn't mean we don't love each other._

_What you don't seem to realise, Severus, is that you have hurt Draco, both physically and emotionally, just as you accuse me of doing so, and you hurt him even more deeply by leaving him._

_You know perfectly well that I have never beaten Draco with my staff! And I resent the implication! It would kill him for Merlin's sake! Besides, I find leather is much more effective. Severus, I will not tell you again; I don't abuse Draco! Yes, he is afraid of me, but that isn't a bad thing. No, Severus, I did not enjoy my own beatings, but you aren't supposed to are you? It sort of defeats the whole point. _

_But it worked didn't it? Or at least it did in my case, you on the other hand, could probably do with a hard slap._

_He bloody well does belong to me! He is mine to do what I please with and you know that perfectly well. If he didn't have me, he wouldn't have anyone; his mother doesn't love him and you certainly aren't capable of bringing up a child!_

_Severus, he is seven years old. I would hardly call that mature. Well, maybe if he proved his so called intelligence to me, I might be persuaded. But even you couldn't say that he's the brightest of children._

_Lucius Malfoy._

* * *

Lucius,

Well, then I must be mistaken, I apologise, it just appeared differently to me.

I realise that very well thank you, and I feel terrible, that is why I want to talk to him! I want to set it right, I made a mistake, I admit that, but I hurt him once, you hurt him every day of his life. Now come on Lucius, you say I hurt him by leaving but if I ever expressed wishes to return could you honestly say that you would let me?

Well, how do I know what goes on behind closed doors? I know you would have no real inhibitions to do so! Teach him a real lesson, right?! Well, at least you have one shred of morality.

You make me sick, "leather is much more effective" makes my skin crawl. .

I just thought that maybe since you knew how it felt, how Draco must feel, that you may feel some kind of remorse.

Calm down! No, I do not know that perfectly well, he is yours in a sense of being your son, but not in being your property, he has some rights.

Maybe your right, but I could certainly give him a better life then you are giving him.

Not in age no, but in his mind he is, he's older then his years. He's been through more then he should at seven. Well, maybe if you gave him the opportunity, instead of demanding perfection, he could prove himself.

How many children have you met?

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus_

_Well, that depends doesn't it? Of course, my duty towards Draco as his father comes first and I wouldn't let anyone near if I thought it wouldn't be good for him, so you'll have to persuade me._

_Oh, don't act so naïve Severus! You know perfectly well what goes on in our home, and don't pretend that you don't! Well, leather is the most affective. Although you certainly did make a big impression on Draco with the cane, didn't you?_

_Do enlighten me, exactly what rights do you think Draco has? He is mine, in every sense of the meaning._

_I demand perfection because I know he can achieve perfection. I am simply pushing him to do his best; it isn't my fault he doesn't try, it isn't my fault he doesn't reach his targets. If anything it's your fault! You were his teacher!_

_To be honest? Not all that many. But it is up to me and me alone to decide how to bring up my son, so bloody well butt out!_

_Lucius_

* * *

Lucius,

Well that's very noble of you Lucius, but you know full well that nothing I say will ever persuade you.

Yes, unfortunately I do, but I mean that you have no limits in your cruelty. Charming.

Don't, Lucius, I know what I did and I hate my self for it, that's what you wanted, right? To shatter the trust I had with him. Well, you certainly got your way. As ever.

He has rights as a living, breathing human being. When will you grant Draco his freedom as an independent man? When he's eighteen? Twenty-five? Or will you never let him go!

You've been preaching to me about that he's merely seven, he doesn't understand things, so how in hell is he supposed to achieve perfection! He's learning! And of course he tries; he does everything to get your pride and approval! But he never gets it does he! No matter how hard he tries! No matter what he achieves! Yes, I was his teacher, past tense.

Exactly, you don't know how mature Draco really is for his age.

I can't just butt out as you put it! I can't, knowing what you're doing to him!

Stop hurting him and I will butt out! Its true he's yours to raise, I can only observe, and try to plead with you to stop hurting him! Your worse then your father!

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus,_

_Very true. You're not quite the same man you were before all this palaver happened. I, of course, blame myself for asking you to get involved in the first place. If I'd really thought about it beforehand, I'd have known that it probably wasn't a good idea to mix you and Draco together. Ah well, what's done is done._

_Of course I have my limits! I have said this many times, but it's not as if I'm going to anything that will kill Draco or damage him permanently. I always have my reasons for hitting Draco, apart from when I completely lose it, but that isn't often._

_Draco will have his 'freedom' when he is seventeen, if he wants it of course, but I'll have no control over him by then. Hopefully, he'll be capable of making the right choices on his own by then._

_And you've been preaching that he's a bloody protégé! If he has been trying, he obviously hasn't been trying very hard, has he? I have been testing him recently, trying to decide what the new tutor will need to cover and I must say that I'm not impressed with the level of work Draco is working at. It is far bellow the standard I would've expected._

_Look, there's nothing you can do about it and you are only causing yourself unnecessary stress by worrying about it, and you're upsetting Draco too. We were fine before you started sticking your nose into our business._

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

What do you mean "I'm not the man I used to be"?

Well, at least you blame your self for something. True, what's done is done, and now I can't just forget about my godson.

When you completely loose it? How do you know you aren't going to go too far then? That you aren't going to "permanently damage him" as you call it? And yes, pretty poor reasons, he coughs, you slap him?

When he's seventeen? I pray for that day, but how he is ever going to stand this until then! And what happens if he becomes a headstrong fifteen-year-old who doesn't want to follow your rules? Who wants fights back? What will you do then?

I'm not saying he's a protégé, I'm saying he's a smart boy. Yes, the levels you expect, not the level of a normal, yet intelligent seven-year-old, give him some leverage.

Then I'll cause myself stress, I've said it before, I can't forget him. If I'm upsetting him I want to set it right! Let me set it right! You were not fine.

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus,_

_I mean, you never used to be this good-intentioned or as interfering or as damn right annoying as you are now! At Hogwarts you were never like this, you just accepted the way wizards did things. Actually, I feel quite put out that you didn't intervene on my behalf, as you are doing now, when you came and stayed at the manor that summer in our third year. The situation was practically the same, but I suppose we were both young. But still…_

_I do not slap him for coughing! And it's completely unreasonable for you to even say that! Anyway, from what you've told me, and judging by the state you were always in after the holidays, your father was far worse than I am towards Draco! He was abusive, my father wasn't and neither am I. There is a difference, albeit a slight one, between an abuser and a disciplinarian. My father had a reason, yours didn't. Please correct me if I'm wrong._

_Of course he will! He knows better than that and even if he does obtain some rebelliousness at school, I know you'll hate me for saying this, but it'll soon be knocked out of him. Anyway, as I said, he'll know better by then._

_We were fine and we are fine! Before you came, it was me to whom he came for affection, but you took that away and left me being the bad person. I do love my son, despite what you think. You just haven't seen that side of it, we were at a particularly low point, that's why I had to take Narcissa away. As you've probably noticed, she isn't the most stable of people and she has funny turns of going a bit…mad, and it was upsetting Draco terribly and he was behaving very badly. We were both at the end of our tether, he'd stopped talking and I had absolutely no patience left with anyone, and then you came into the equation and just made things worse._

_I have found a new tutor for Draco!_

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

I never knew Draco then.

Yes, I was young, what was I supposed to do? March right up to your father and ask him nicely to stop please?

I had respect beaten into me. I can't believe how far away those days seem now. Yes, he was but this isn't about my father or me, those days are behind us.

There is a difference, but to hit a child is to hit a child, in my eyes there is never a good reason. I regret heavily that I became like that for a moment.

Yes, I hate you for that! "It'll be knocked out of him", I feel so much for him, he has all this ahead of him, and he'll never live freely for ten years. You'd hope he'd know better, I hope he does challenge you, I hope you don't destroy his resolve.

Ok, I am mistaken from what I see then. Yes, he came to you for comfort, and what did you do? Shoved him away. If you love him then maybe you should let him know that. Oh yes, I've seen her "mad turns"

Well, then I apologise, but it was you who asked me to come, and I was the one who got him talking again. And what is this new tutor like?

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus,_

_I refuse to talk to you when you're being like this! Having strong opinions is all well and good, but not when you refuse to listen to anyone else._

_Write when you have decided to be reasonable._

_Lucius_

* * *

Lucius,

Fine, then I'll listen, tell me how you are justified?

And please, Lucius, tell about the tutor.

Severus

* * *

_Severus._

_How very gracious of you. I am justified and you know perfectly well how, so I shan't go into that now._

_Perfectly adequate actually, and just what I have been looking for. He knows what he's talking about and has had some previous experience of children, so he'll keep Draco in his place. _

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

Whatever you say Lucius. How is Draco now?

Good, I'm glad you've found a competent person, lets hope it stays that way. I'm glad he has previous experience with children, Draco needs someone who may understand him.

Severus Snape.

* * *

_Severus _

_Draco's...okay. But he's not settling very well with the new teacher, in fact he's being most unhelpful. I appreciate that Draco finds it hard to come to terms with the fact that it's not you, but he isn't even trying._

_I'm afraid I'm going to start getting angry if he doesn't pull himself together soon, but I think Dr Southard will be able to handle him. _

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius

Ok? Oh, well, you have to expect it, it's not easy being introduced to new people at his age, and he may become resentful. I'm sure he's trying, and he'll come around, if this tutor is patient with him.

Don't you start that Lucius! Don't get angry with him. That won't help! I hope he does.

Severus.

* * *

_Severus,_

_Yes, well that may be true, but he'll just have to accept it, won't he? He'll have to meet new people when he goes to school, so there's no point indulging him now. _

_Well, Draco won't be allowed to get away with everything as he was with you, but I'm sure Dr Southard will be patient when necessary. I'm determined that Draco will actually learn something this time, rather than just being spoilt. _

_Lucius Malfoy_

* * *

Lucius,

Well, as you are convinced that you are right and there is absolutely I can say that will ever persuade so otherwise, I shan't bother to waste good ink arguing with you.

I'm glad you think 'Dr Southard' will be patient with Draco, I think that's what he needs more than anything, somebody who won't pressurise him too much. I hope I will have a chance to meet him one day.

Severus Snape.

**

* * *

**

_**May 27th 1987**_

_Severus,_

_I'm glad you have finally decided to see sense. _

_Well, I was thinking; it is Draco's birthday soon and I thought that perhaps, if you aren't too busy with your own life, it would be nice for Draco to see you. Maybe when you've seen for yourself how well he is doing, you will finally stop pestering me and 'wasting good ink' as you put it. I think the sixth would be better instead of the fifth, as I know how much you detest parties._

_Consider this a formal invitation and send your reply as quickly as possible._

_Lucius Malfoy._

* * *

My surprise was such that I could ignore the blatant sarcasm I sensed when Lucius was referring to 'my own life'.

I did as I was bid and sent my note of acceptance back the second I received Lucius' letter.

So, after four months, I was going back. I was going to meet Dr Southard and see my godson again. I only hoped that he would be as glad to see me as I was to see him…


	12. Interlude part 2

_**June 6**__**th**__** 1988**_

"I'm afraid that you shall find him quite changed," said Lucius conversationally as we sat in his study and drank tea. "He's grownup considerably since you left and not in a agreeable way either."

I frowned, it had only been just over three months. "But of course," I reminded him. "Draco's had a lot of changes forced upon him. Yes, I know I'm to blame as much as anybody," I put in quickly as Lucius started to look smug. "But you can't expect him not to be unsettled by all of this. He's had to deal with a new person coming into his life as well and that isn't easy for any child." I quickly took a deep breath, feeling myself getting worked up, and willed myself to stay under control. Finding tranquillity in the bottom of my wineglass for a moment, I turned my attention back to the man who had once been both my best friend and my employer, now he was neither.

"Please," I said. "Tell me about the new man. What's his name? Dr Southard, isn't it?"

"Oh, he's fantastic," Lucius assured me enthusiastically. "Really wonderful with Draco…" he paused for a second frowning. "Or at least he tries to be. He's worked with problematic children before, you see, so he knows how to deal with them."

"Draco is _not_ problematic!" I stormed, my fists clenching into angry balls in my lap. "He would be perfectly fine if you would only leave him alone. If you stopped treating him like a dog and more like the vivacious, clever little boy he is, maybe you would start to see that."

Lucius' grey eyes narrowed into snake-like slits. "So you think wetting the bed at the age of eight is perfectly normal, do you?" he hissed. "You don't think there's anything wrong with that?"

My first instinct was to ask how on earth he knew that, but then it struck me; apart from a couple of perfectly understandable incidents, the only tie I could really recall Draco wetting the bed was when he was five…that particular evening sticks in my mind vividly to this very day.

"How long has this been going on?" I managed to ask, leaning forward in concern. "Not long, I'm sure. Do you have any idea why?"

But Lucius merely shrugged. "Merlin knows," he sighed unhelpfully. "It could be anything…"He shot me a complacent, smug look, "It's probably your fault. You did upset him terribly and has you said, he has had to deal with a lot of hard changes."

My cutting retort was, unfortunately, silenced by a loud and rather impatient rap on the door, followed quickly by the head of a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to the water rat out of _'Wind in the Willows_'.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Malfoy," he said in a voice best described as 'nazely'. "But I'm afraid there's a bit of a problem…"

"Can't you sort it out yourself?" Lucius snapped angrily, fixing the man with a look that made him wither. "What do you think I'm paying you for?"

"I-I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," the man stammered, fidgeting nervously. "But it's an emergency."

"_An emergency_!" scoffed Lucius, rising to his feet and heading towards the door. "What's he done now? Set fire to the curtains?"

We heard him muttering irritably all the way down the corridor, leaving myself and my…_replacement'_ looking awkwardly at each other.

"So," I said, breaking the unbearably loud silence. "Dr Southard, isn't it?"

"Yes," the man and quickly stuck out his hand for me to shake, a rather excitable grin spread across his ratty face. "And you are Severus Snape?" I raised an eyebrow curiously, silently querying how he knew who I was.

Dr Southard was, apparently, not as incompetent as he looked, for he laughed at my incredulous expression. "Draco talks about you all the time," he explained, smartly bringing us both onto common ground. "It's always 'Sir says this' and 'Sir did that'," Dr Southard chatted on as though we had know each other longer, at least, than five minutes. " In the end, I had to ask Mr Malfoy who this 'Sir' was and he said-" he coughed, suddenly embarrassed.

To be honest, I didn't particularly want to know what things Lucius had been spreading about me, although I was interested in the fact that Draco was, or had been, talking about me. Maybe that meant he didn't hate me as much as I feared…

"So what do you think of Draco then?" I asked conversationally, secretly hoping that he would turn out to be an evil bastard. "I heard that you specialise in difficult children, do you find him difficult?"

Dr Southard looked mildly surprised that I had even questioned it. "You disagree then? You consider the boy perfectly normal?" He surveyed me from behind his spectacles in, what I found to be, a most unnerving fashion.

"Well," I considered my words carefully. "I admit he is not without his issues, but you can hardly blame Draco for-"

" I am not here to blame anyone," Dr Southard interrupted smoothly with an amused smile. "The reason why Draco is such a difficult child is of no importance to me, all I am trying to do is _help_. I specialise in little boys like Draco, Mr Snape, I know what I am doing."

I suppose I couldn't really argue with that and he did seem genuinely nice and I found myself warming to the man who now filled the place in Draco's life which had once (and in my opinion still should be) mine, despite previously convincing myself that nothing would persuade me to do so.

"Please excuse me if I am speaking out of line," Dr Southard said, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "But, why exactly _did_ you leave? I have heard a mixture of different stories and I am intrigued as to what really happened. Please indulge my curiosity if you will."

I considered him for a moment, then turned away. "A difference of opinion," I replied coolly. "Nothing more."

Dr Southard was obviously disappointed with my succinct answer, probably longing to here all the nasty little details. Not that I blamed him, of course, I would be exactly the same if our roles were reversed. Nothing more the mankind's insatiable curiosity for which we are renowned.

"Forgive me," I continued, in an effort to clear the air, so to speak. "But I would rather you didn't ask about that. It's a rather _difficult_ topic for me to talk about."

He nodded, "I understand. I suppose that's why Mr Malfoy wanted a professional; somebody who wouldn't get emotionally involved with Draco."

At this, I bristled; why on earth couldn't anybody understand that that's _exactly_ what Draco _did_ need. I couldn't understand how anyone could fail to see that, especially this man who claimed to be a professional.

But I didn't blame him for not wanting to do anything that might jeopardise his position. He, unlike myself, had both a reputation and a career to uphold and bad reference from Lucius Malfoy could easily destroy both.

"Why did you take this job?" I asked, genuinely interested.

Dr Southard shrugged, "I needed the money, I didn't get on very well with the previous family I worked with and I thought this would be interesting." He sighed then laughed, "Well, it certainly is that and the money is excellent."

Of course, it was all for the money. After all, isn't that why people did unpleasant, unrewarding jobs? For the money? Why else would anyone do them?

It was only then, I think, that I full appreciated the saying 'money can't buy you verything'.

* * *

A/N: Firstly, my deepest most sincerest apologies for taking a millenium, although i have said many times not to expect frequent updates. Alot has been going on and on top of that Lucius and Sev have been behaving very badly. It seems that fame, at long last, has gone to their heads and they seem to think that they ought to be paid. I can even threaten to delete them because, as we all know, they belong to JK and not me. (alas!) But, they finally stopped calling each other 'Asses' and allowed me to write the chapter :-)

Lily xxx


	13. Part Three 1

**Part Three**

**_I don't know who to trust_**

_**Take everything from the inside and throw it all away  
Cos I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you**_

_**Tension is building inside steadily  
Everyone feels so far away from me.  
Heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me  
Trying not to break but I'm so tired of this deceit  
Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet  
All I ever think about is this  
All the tiring time between  
And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me**_

_**Take everything from the inside and throw it all away  
Cos I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you**__**I'll take everything from the inside and throw it all away  
Cos I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you**_

* * *

Lucius arrived back in his study looking most dishevelled and even more disgruntled than he usually did. 

"Problems?" I asked, suppressing a smirk as he shot me his filthiest look.

"Nothing I can't handle," he muttered sullenly, heading purposefully towards the set of crystal decanters on the sideboard. Dr Southard and I exchanged looks, both agreeing that it was probably in the best interests of everyone _not_ to ask too many questions. It was, as you can imagine, incredibly tempting though and I felt, as much as I am loath to admit it, for it is extremely callous, a certain amount of pleasure at seeing Lucius struggling with control.

Settling himself back into his chair, Lucius took a long, sloe drink, then said to the ceiling, "I think it would be best if you _didn't_ see Draco today, Sev."

A pang of irritation jolted unpleasantly through me. "Why?" I demanded, glaring indignantly at my host. Then, more childishly," But you promised!"

"Don't whine, Severus, it doesn't suite you," said Lucius dryly and, rolling up his sleeve, he presented to me what seemed to be teeth marks.

"I didn't know you kept vampires," I said conversationally, leaning forwards to get a better look.

Lucius raised an un-amused eyebrow. "Wit has never been one of your stronger points," he observed with a look of utter contempt, "and you sound quite ridiculous when you try."

"And as ever, you astound me with your delightful manners," I muttered under my breath. Dr Southard concealed a smile behind his hand.

" Look, I'm sorry that you have had a wasted journey," offered Lucius as a sort of half-hearted apology. "But it really isn't the best time at the moment. Draco is already far too over excited from yesterday and I'm afraid that you shall only make it worse. I'm sorry Severus, but that's my final word on the matter. You're welcome to stay for awhile on the off chance that he calms down, but really, I'm only looking out for your personal safety."

"You are making him sound like a rabid dog!" I exclaimed, finding it exceedingly difficult to believe what I was hearing.

Yes, it was true that Draco had never been the most stable of people, but it sounded as though he had gone completely mad. I was sure that it was simply Lucius over-exaggerating things, but going also by what I had heard from Dr Southard, perhaps it was true.

'_But why?'_ I wondered, _'What has happened to push him that bit too far? Is it my fault?'_

"If it's any consolation," Lucius aid in a way which immediately assured me that it wasn't, "I haven't told Draco that you were coming, so it's not as though he is going to be disappointed."

I stared at him incredulously. "You haven't told him? You were just going to let me waltz back into Draco's life without even telling him? Why would you do that?"

"It was _going_ to be a surprise," Lucius explained flippantly. "Although it may not have necessarily been a nice one."

My eyes narrowed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You know perfectly well what it means!" Lucius gave a dry, humourless laugh. "Come on Sev, stop acting so damn innocent. You simply cannot expect things to just go back to how they were. Things have changed. _People_ have changed."

I made an unconvinced growling sort of noise in the back of my throat, making my host literally throw up his hands in despair. "Listen, if you don't believe me, go and see for yourself! But you're the one who'' have to clean up the mess afterwards."

Fine," I said quickly, not waiting for him to change his mind.

"I umm…I think I ought to come with you," Dr Southard put in hastily. He made to follow me, but I stopped him. This was really something I had to do on my own.

"Don't bother," I told him, although it was really meant for Lucius too. "If I get rabies, I promise that I shan't blame you."

* * *

Approaching the door to the rooms that had once been mine, I felt a rather overwhelming combination of excitement and apprehension. 

'_It'll be fine,'_ I assured myself as the brass handle twisted in my palm. _'What could possibly go wrong?'_

The door moved easily as I pushed against it to let myself in and I was able to close it just as easily. The last thing that I wanted was to startle Draco and cause any unnecessary tribulation.

The first thing that I noticed as I took a couple of seconds to absorb my surroundings, was that the curtains had _not_ been set alight, but the room still looked as though a war had taken place there; chairs had been overturned, torn up paper littered the carpet and bottles of ink had been tipped over. Chaos. Utter chaos.

Then I saw, as my eyes lingered over each part of the classroom, Draco. He was staring out over the extensive gardens, back towards me and seemed quite oblivious to my presence.

Slowly, cautiously even, I walked towards my godson, keenly aware of everything both Lucius and Dr Southard had told me. I hadn't a clue what I was going to say to him. What could I say? Would I apologise? Or maybe try to pretend that nothing had changed between us? I had been so focused on just getting to the stage where I _could_ see Draco, nothing else had even crossed my mind.

Unfortunately, I didn't even get the chance to think of something then, because suddenly a piece of torn up parchment rustled beneath my foot and within a second Draco was on his feet, body rigid with defence. For a moment, I don't think he recognised me, for when our eyes met, his seemed blank and confused, as though he were not really seeing me at all.

He'd grown, I noted, rapidly during our time apart, although he was still small for a boy of eight and the added height only served to emphasise how pale and thin he had become.

Almost without meaning to, I held out my hand, palm up, similar to how one would entice a stray cat, wanting to draw the little boy to me, to protect him. Instantly, Draco's eyes focused on me and he let out a piercing shriek, which left my ears ringing, and he shied violently away from me.

"Stay away!" The panic laced within those two words did not surprise me in the slightest.

"Draco, it's okay," I said as gently and as calmly as I could manage. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I realised only after I had spoken them, how ridiculous those words sounded. Merlin only knows how many times people had said that to Draco, only to go back on them again. Draco, probably having thought the same thing, winced and retreated back a little further.

"Please Draco," I murmured, crouching down on my heels, "we have to talk. Just give me a chance to explain. Please Dragon…"

At this, Draco gave another shriek, more hysterical than the last. "No!" he screamed. "You can't make me talk! You can't make me do anything! No one can! Just stay away!" He stood and galred, hands clenched into fists by his side.

"You can't just push me away," I told Draco quietly, looking him directly in the eye. "Too much has happened for me to allow you to do that."

A pained expression crossed Draco's faced and I noticed tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"But…but why now?" came the whispered response. "Why not…why didn't you…" But he couldn't get the words to form.

Sensing Draco's momentary lack of defence, I took two swift steps over to him and, hoping to shock him into responding to me, gripped him by the shoulders, not tightly, but enough to make him flinch.

His reaction can only be described as 'fiery'.

Draco screamed and twisted hard, fighting passionately against me. It was a struggle not to let him go; he kicked and struggled, all the while screaming for me to let go. But I would not. I wasn't prepared to give up so easily. I knew that I could hold out much longer than Draco could, although I hated having to resort to a test of physical strength, as it seemed highly inappropriate given the situation. But what had to be done, had to be done.

The frenzied, uncontrolled way in which he had initially fought, eventually gave way to a more weary, half-hearted attack and Draco stopped screaming. Tears trickled unchecked down his cheeks as tiredness overcame him and, soon, he stopped struggling completely.

It was only then that I drew Draco close and held him in the way he needed to be; my arms wrapped tightly around him as he wept into my robes.

When all the tears had been cried, Draco simply let me hold him, his body stiff and unforgiving.

"I brought you a birthday present," I told him, when I couldn't bear his resentful silence any longer. I reached into my pocket, having to twist my arm in an awkward position to reach it, and held out the tiny model of a dragon, which I had purchased a week ago in Diagon Alley. I had learnt during that time, not to keep scraps of paper in the same pocket, as you could be sure that they wouldn't be there the next day. The Antipodean Opaleye strutted across my palm, it's pearly scales glittering in the sun-light, then, with a flap of miniature wings, it sailed across to alight on the back of Draco's hand.

"Do you like it?"

Draco made a non-committed sound, which I interpreted as 'yes, he did like but, didn't want to admit it'. Which was good enough for me.

"So…how has everything been?"

Attention fixed on the Opaleye, which had just sent out a jet of brightly coloured fire, Draco shrugged.

"I hear you've been having problems," I continued, ignoring the fact that I was more or less having a single sided conversation. I felt Draco's body stiffen. "Do you want to talk about it?"

At this, Draco leapt to his feet, anger rekindled. The Opaleye, taking fright, hovered nervously in mid-air.

"No I don't want to talk about it!" Draco snarled, teeth bared. "You can't make me! I never wanted you to come back! I hate you! I hate you!"

And before I could do or say anything, whipped around and ran away, away from me, the Opaleye flying after him.

* * *

A/N: Ta daa! -_thinks of something interesting to say...but can't- _Meh! Hope you like the chapter, I'm on a role so the next one shouldn't take tooo long -_fingers crossed-_

Lily xxx


	14. Your Mom ie Not a chapter

**Your Mom**

LadyLilyM: _**ahem**_ Greetings from the deepest , darkest and most dangerous, not to mention perilous realms of…umm…_**thinks**_ somewhere. Heh heh…Anyway, I thought that considering something which I'm not 100 sure of, I had better explain exactly why I've been so damn slack recently. Right it's like this…

Random dude: Oh no it isn't!!!

LadyLilyM: _**glares**_ Excuse me? God! Some people are just so rude! Anyhoo, as I was saying, it's like this…

Random dude: No it isn't!!!!

LadyLilyM: Yes it is! Now shut up!!!! It _is_ like this, a certain character or two, mentioning no names, have been acting very immaturely and refuse to do what I tell them. On top of that, fame seems to have gone to their head and they are demanding ridiculously large sums of money before they will agree to behave themselves and I can't even threaten to erase them because they are far too well known for their own damn good and, as such, they think that they can get away with anything. _**bows**_ End of rant.

Shnape: _**storms on stage looking most irate**_ That is entirely _not _fair! There is absolutely no way I shall agree to accepting even part of the responsibility for your slackness when it is completely one person's fault!!!

Random dude: Yeah LadyLilyM!

LadyLilyM: _**glares murderously**_

Shnape: Shut up! I wasn't talking about her anyway. High five!!

LadyLilyM: Wahey! **_high fives_**

Shnape: _**talks to an unseen presence**_ See? I told you she was on my side! I told you she said it was all you fault!

Lucius: _**charges on stage and gives Shnape evils**_ Oh my god! That is soo not fair! It so blatantly not my fault!

LadyLilyM: _**Palmface**_ See what I have to put up with? _This,_ gestures wildly towards Shnape and Lucius is why I cannot update! Constantly agruing like a couple of girls!

Random dude: SEXIST!!!!

LadyLilyM: Oh be quiet! I'm a girl so I'm allowed to say things like that.

Lucius: _**indignant**_ We are not constantly arguing! We get along like a house on fire, don't we Sev?

Shnape: Well…actually we don't.

Lucius: Yes we do!

Shanpe: Nope.

Lucius: Yuh huh!

Shanpe: Nuh huh

Lucius: Yuh huh!

Shape: Nuh huh!

Lucius: YUH-BLOODY-HUH!

Shnape: _**looks smug**_ See? I told you!

Lucius: _**sticks out tongue**_

Shnape: _**shakes head**_ god, you are soo immature!

Lucius: Your Mom's immature.

Shnape: _Your_ Mom's immature!

Lucius: _**hiss**_

Shnape: _**raises eyebrow pityingly**_ hey, wait a sec, _**turns to LadyLilyM**_ Since when did I have an H in my name?

LadyLilyM: _**blushes** _yeah about that…don't you think 'Shnape' sounds so much cuter than 'Snape'?

Shnape: I don't want to sound cute! Anyway, I thought you wanted to get things perfectly right! Remember when you freaked out over getting the dates wrong?

LadyLilyM: _**mutters**_ Artistic licence.

Lucius: _**snorts**_

LadylilyM: And you can be quiet too! _**To Shnape**_ Fine I'll change it.

Shnapey: _**Looks deeply un-amused**_ and you wonder why I don't co-operate with you? _**turns to the audience and puts on a 'look how badly she treats me face**_ So you see, dear fictioneers, how terribly _she_ treats her characters and then blames us for her slackness? _shakes head sadly_ terrible isn't it?

Random dude: Ha! Ha! Ban her!!!

Lucius: Avada Kedrava! _**random dude falls dead**_

LadyLilyM: Mwah ha ha ha!!!

Shnapey: _**points violently**_ See? See? See how evil she is?

Lucius: _**smirks Malfoy-ishly**_ And you said she was on _your_ side.

LadyLilyM: Hey! I never said I was on anyone's side! I think your both as bad as each other!

Shanpey: _**mutters**_ Ass-hole…

Lucius and LadyLilyM: You Mom's an ass-hole!!!

LadyLilyM: High five!!!

Lucius: Wahey!! _**high-fives**_

Shnapey:** _palmface_** Give me strength!

Random Fairy: _**Ping!**_

Shnapey: I am Shnapey! Fear my wrath!

Lucius: Your Mom fears your wrath.

Shnapey: _**glares **_That was both entirely inappropriate and un-necessary. I hope you have learnt the error of your sordid ways and will be an improved person from now.

Lucius: _**raises eye-brow Malfoy-ishly**_

Shnapey: _**raises eye-brow Shnanpe-ishly**_

Lucius:_ **hiss**_

Shnapey: Mrowl!

Lucius: _Mrowl?_ What the hell's 'Mrowl'???

Shnapey: _**smirk**_ Your Mom.

Lucius: exasperatedly What…_**to LadyLilyM** _Make him stop!! That didn't even make sense!

Shnapey: Your Mom doesn't make sense.

Lucius: Neither does yours!

Shnapey: _**sticks out tongue**_

Lucius: _**hiss**_

Shnapey: Mrowl!

LadyLilyM: _**sob**_

Lucius: _**to Shnapey**_ Oh my god, you are such an arse!

Shnapey: Your Mom's an arse hee hee

Lucius: _**snarls and flings himself at Shnapey. A fight follows**_

LadyLilyM: _**carefully stepping over Lucius and Shnapey**_ And so, my dear darlings, concludes this tragic episode. waves hand tragically Alas and au revoire!

Lucius & Shnapey: _**stops fighting, waves, then starts agin**_

LadyLilyM: _**sigh**_


	15. Part Three 2

"I take it that it didn't go _quite_ as well as you had hoped?"

As a rule, I despised sympathy in all its sickeningly patronising forms but, for a moment, I was grateful for it. At least, it was better than the smug _'I-told-you-so'_ that I was sure to get from Lucius.

I shrugged and sighed, "I suppose you might say that.".

"Ah well," Dr Southard said as he bent down to start tidying up the chaotic mess which had once been a room. "You could always try again tomorrow. I'm sure everyone will have calmed down by then."

I smiled weakly, thanking him for his (although somewhat ineffective) attempt at making me feel better.

"I only wish," I continued, getting down on my knees to help. "That I knew _why_ Draco is being like this." I looked at Dr Southard trying to get his attention, but when he did look up, it was only for the briefest of seconds.

"Please," I implored, "If you know _anything_…"

"Mr Snape," came the response so sharp, it made me jump. "It is none of my business, nor is it yours, to know every detail of how the Malfoys choose to live. Anything that we do know, however, should be kept to ourselves." He hesitated slightly, before saying in a low voice, "I know you are only doing what you think right, but ultimately, you are just causing more trouble, for yourself _and_ for Draco. I gather that isn't what you want?"

I shook my head, my eyes fixed on a rather interesting dust particle.

"Then, just leave it," Dr Southard continued. "It isn't worth it."

I excused myself quickly after this exchanged, not exactly trusting myself to speak. The worst thing was, I knew that he was right. I _was_ just making things worse for Draco. But, even though I knew this, I still refused to admit it to myself.

* * *

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.  
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.  
Be strong, be strong now.  
Too many, too many problems.  
Don't know where he belongs, where he belongs.

* * *

I left Draco alone after that; partly because of what Dr Southard had said and partly because it was blatantly obvious that pushing Draco any harder would ruin everything I hadn't lost already.

It was difficult though. There were times when I would catch Draco looking up at me, as though he wanted to say something, but the moment I looked back, his eyes snapped to the ground. It was like a game, each of us waiting for the other to speak first, to break the oppressive silence that hung between us.

Surprisingly enough, I found solace in Dr Southard or 'Call me William'. It was nice to have somebody who seemed to understand what I was talking about without being overly patronising or sarcastic as Lucius was. He sympathised in all the right places, but was also able to explain where I was going wrong.

"Draco'll come around eventually," he said. "Just let him do it in his own time."

So I did.

For two, solid weeks I barely even acknowledged Draco's presence. I hated myself for it and I could sense Draco's hurt but it was, as William convinced me, for the greater good. And he _was _the professional.

* * *

_**June 20**__**th**__** 1988**_

It was one of those nights where I had been trying so hard to fall asleep with no success, that I had made myself too tired _to_ sleep. Oh the irony…

It was about three o'clock in the morning and, when finally I could feel a glorious nothingness descending on, I heard the small click of my door being pushed open and a set of feet padded their way in.

I lay still, pretending to be asleep.

Draco, for it couldn't be anyone else, paused at the foot of my bed, trying to determine whether or not I was asleep. I could hear him sniffling quietly in the dark. Then suddenly, I felt the mattress sink slightly beneath Draco's weight as the little boy climbed on top of the covers and curled up by my feel, like a cat, one hand holding on to my ankle for security.

'_A bad dream, probably,'_ I assumed vaguely, yawning. _'I'll talk to him in the morning…'_

But, by the time I had woken up the following day, Draco had slipped away without a sound.

This little routine became a regular occurrence and an unspoken arrangement between us. It was one of those things where words are just simply not necessary; I understood that, although Draco wanted to be close again, he still didn't trust me enough to say anything and he knew, by my not saying anything about it, that I wasn't going to push him to do anything that he felt uncomfortable about.

And yet, I was still so worried. Something was troubling Draco deeply, something that I had no idea about. I couldn't talk to Lucius for obvious reasons and whenever I would try to voice my concerns to William, he would just tell me that it wasn't my problem and I shouldn't involve myself too deeply because of what happened last time.

Unfortunately for some and lucky for others, I had used up the last ounce of self-control during those two weeks and, whilst I was recharging so to speak, I became rather _impulsive_.

* * *

_**June 27**__**th**__** 1988**_

As I heard Draco approaching my bedroom once again, I lit my bedside candle with a flick of my wand and sat up, determined, this time, to get some answers.

Draco froze as he stepped over the threshold, one hand still on the door-handle. He made to back out, to run away, but I spoke out before he could do so.

"Draco, come in please. I'd like to talk to you."

The boy bit his lip, glancing guiltily up at me. He didn't move.

"Please," I repeated, patting the space next to me in, what I hoped was a friendly and not-in-the-least-bit intimidating way.

Draco eyed me suspiciously. "Why?" he whispered. "Are you angry with me?" He licked his lips nervously and began to stammer, "P-please…I d-didn't think you…minded. You never…you never said anything…I-I-I thought it was okay…please don't be…don't be a-angry with me…"

"I'm not," I assured him, trying to smile. "I promise you I'm not. I'm just worried about you, Draco. I want you to talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

At my words, Draco shrank back. "Nothing Sir," he mumbled, staring at the carpet. "Nothing's going on. I-I just…I just…" There was a long pause as Draco mustered the courage to say what was babbling up inside, then suddenly; "Why did you go?" he blurted out. "I don't understand and you never explained. And why did you stop writing? Did I do something to make you cross? 'Cause if I did, I'm really sorry and I never meant to, I swear, but please tell me if it's my fault. Please…"

"Draco!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my bed. "For Merlin's sake, breath! Now listen to me," I knelt down and put my hands firmly on his shoulders. "Anything that has happened, whether it be about me or your father or anybody, _nothing_ is your fault. Do you understand? You're just the one who happened to get caught up in the middle of a lot of conflict and a lot of difficult people."

Draco's lip trembled and tears gathered in the corners of his silvery eyes.

"I know that it isn't fair," I continued. "None of this should've happened and I am sorry that you've had such a miserable time. Now, I am not going to start making promises that I can't keep; that will only make things worse for both of us, and I'm not going to say that things will start getting better, but what I _can_ do is to promise you that if you have a worry or something is scaring you or if you want to talk about anything at all, I will listen. I might not be able to help, or offer any advice, but I shan't tell anybody and I shan't tell you to be quiet. I promise that you can trust me. Do you understand?"

Draco shook his head slowly, pure confusion set deep into his eyes. "But…but you went away. You didn't even say good bye. Then y-you stopped writin' t-too and…and I d-don't know why. Why should I trust you when you lied to me?"

I opened my mouth to deny his accusations; to say that it wasn't my fault and I was forced into doing what I had done…but the words choked me.

'_Not again'_ I told myself. _'Only the truth now. No more lies.'_

"I was wrong," I told Draco, taking the boy's small hands in mine. "I have done some terrible things and I have treated you appallingly. But I never meant to, Dragon. You have to believe that, if nothing else. I have only ever tried to make things better for you, I just…I just made a lot of stupid and careless mistakes, but I'm sorry. I'm_ so_ sorry…"

Draco stared at me, unsure whether he ought to run as far away from me as possible or to cling on to the shreds of what we had before, of what he so desperately craved.

"You wouldn't come back," he whispered resentfully, yet he did not snatch his hands from mine. "Even when I begged you, you still wouldn't. I _begged_ you, Sir!"

"I'm here now…" I stated uselessly, feeling unbearably small.

A sigh slipped passed the boy's lips and he looked down. "Yeah…_now_,"

"What?" I demanded, sensing that he was holding something back/

Draco flinched as the word came out sharper than I had intended.

"N-nothing…"

"What are you so cared of?" I appealed, gently turning his pale face towards mine. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"You aren't staying," said Draco, turning his attention obstinately to his bare feet. "I know you're not. So what's the point? You can't help."

"Can't help what? Please tell me,"

"Stop it!" Draco cried suddenly, clapping his hands over his ears. "You promised you wouldn't do that! You said you wouldn't push me! Stop it!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry," I felt as though I was dealing with a very delicate time bomb; any wrong move could result in a terrible explosion and then it would all be over. No more second chances.

I turned away from Draco and sat back down on the edge of my bed, kicking my heels against the wood. Draco regarded me apprehensively, before slowly joining me.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Draco to determine what he wanted to say.

"I'm…I'm glad that you came back," he mumbled eventually, glancing up at me, almost shyly, out of the corner of his eye. "Even if it's not for always…I'm still glad."

I smiled. "Me too."

* * *

:-) 

Tu aime? Shnapey plushies to reviewers and a weak promise to update soon lol! But don't hold your breath, I'm on holiday for a while, but I've had a lot of inspiration from DH, so a couple of one-shots might be up in the next few weeks! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!

-ahem-

Lily xxx


	16. Part Three 3

Draco smiled broadly at my words, then regarded me thoughtfully for a while, chewing his bottom lip as though carefully assessing my trustworthiness.

Then, he said slowly, " S'posing…s'posing I did tell you, you wouldn't say anything, would you? I mean, you wouldn't tell Father or Mummy or say that I'd told you, would you?"

"No, of course not. I've already said that I shan't."

"Okay," Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath; summoning every ounce of courage he possessed. "Well, it's just-"

"Oh, excuse me."

Draco froze and promptly shut his mouth. Irritated that I come so close to finding out what was going on, only to have it locked away again, I turned my attention towards the doorway, in which William Southard had just appeared.

"Can I help you?" I asked, frowning.

William glanced at me over the top of glasses that always seemed to be sliding down his nose. "Draco ought to be in bed." He raised an eyebrow at the boy curled up beside me, giving him a stern look. "Hadn't you? You know you're not to wander about at night."

"Had a…had a bad dream," Draco mumbled. "Sir said it was okay if I came here. Didn't you?" he looked at me, silently begging me not to give him away.

I nodded. "Really, it's fine. I'll take him back to his room when he feels a bit better."

But William was not happy. "I do _not_ think that's a good idea," he said stiffly. "Given your circumstances."

I bristled. "What do you mean?" I demanded. "What '_circumstances'_?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied quickly. "Nothing, of course." To avoid the look I was giving him, William turned his attention back to Draco and jerked his head towards the door, "Come on. I'll take you back."

But Draco shook his head, clinging onto my arm. "No!" he cried. "I want to stay here! There's a…a monster in my room!"

William was unconvinced and, I have to admit, neither was I. It sounded far too childish coming from Draco, who was usually very sensible and had grown out of such things years ago.

But why, I wondered, was he so scared of staying in his room? What was the real problem?

I was damned if I knew the answer.

"Don't be silly, Draco!" William snapped, his patience thinning. "Now come on. Get back to be and stop bothering Mr Snape."

"But I'm not!" Draco turned anxiously to me, seeking reassurance. "I wasn't bothering you, was I? You said it was alright. You said I could stay!"

"Draco Malfoy, if I have to ask you one more time," William cut in before I could reply. "I am going to go _straight_ to your father. And he won't be very happy, will he, being woken up in the middle of the night to find you misbehaving."

I felt Draco's body stiffen beside me. "No," he whispered. Whether it was in answer to William's threat or as a weak plea, I did not know.

"You had better go back," I murmured, placing one hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to get into trouble."

Draco stared at me disbelievingly, as though he thought I was joking. "B-but…"

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise."

He opened his mouth, but shut it again; deciding that his protests would simply fall on deaf ears.

"Fine!" snapped Draco, glaring at me resentfully. "_Tomorrow_."

I couldn't help but recognise the cynicism in my godson's voice or the sneer in his expression as he allowed William to lead him away.

The innocent little boy whom I had once known was disappearing fast and to my horror, I realised that, unless I did something, he would turn into a carbon copy of his father.

* * *

As it turned out, I did not manage to continue my conversation with Draco. But not, I would like to stress, for lack of trying. 

Draco came down to breakfast half an hour late the morning after, looking deathly pale and so ill that even Lucius was concerned.

"It could be Dragon Pox," he whispered to me, looking quite anxious. "He hasn't had it yet and it does run in the family. What do you think?"

I studied Draco carefully before answering; it looked as though he were having some sort of nightmare, his eyes were dull and unfocused and every now and then, he would twitch or let out a small gasp. It was very bizarre.

"I don't know," I replied quietly. "I'm not sure that it is Dragon Pox. But I can't say for sure."

"Mmm."

We both watched Draco for a while, not even bothering to hide the fact that we were doing so, as it was clear that he was utterly oblivious to his surroundings.

Suddenly, a cry so sharp I'm surprised that windows didn't break, pierced through the dining room, making everyone, even Narcissa, wince.

"No!" Draco was shrieking, his hands clawing at his face, eyes tight shut. "No no no!"

It was Lucius who gathered himself together first. He was out of his chair and by Draco's side in a shot, myself not far behind. Narcissa, looking mildly surprised, resumed the consumption of her coffee as though nothing untoward was going on and this was just a regular, everyday occurrence.

Lucius, by this point, had pinned Draco's arms to his side, halting any further attempts for the boy to harm himself. Tears mingled with blood on Draco's face as he cried and twisted like a possessed thing.

"Draco Malfoy stop this NOW!" bellowed Lucius in his most authorative, dictator voice. This would, under normal circumstances, have had Draco frozen to the spot in fear, but this time he didn't seem to even have heard his father.

This was, understandably, very disconcerting for the elder Malfoy and he glanced at me worriedly. _'What do I do?'_ he mouthed.

"Just hold him still," I instructed, pulling out a chair and pointing to it. "He'll stop eventually."

However, Draco didn't stop. His screaming was relentless and he seemed desperate to move his arms.

"What do I do?" Lucius cried helplessly. "Severus help me!"

"I don't know! How on earth should _I_ know?"

Lucius groaned. "Draco stop!" he pleaded, as much as a Malfoy could plead. "For Merlin's sake! This is ridiculous! What's the matter with you?"

"Nicely, Lucius," I reminded him gently. "Be nice."

Lucius scowled heavily. "I'm _always_ nice."

"Of course you are," I muttered under my breath.

He raised a pale eyebrow in a 'and-how-is-this-helping?' sort of way. "Don't you have a potion or something that'll calm him down?"

"A potion?" I repeated stupidly.

"Yes, Severus. _A potion_. You know, one of those things one brews in cauldrons and generally taste disgusting?"

I ignored the blatant and wholly unnecessary sarcasm. "Nothing that would be of any use, I'm afraid. I don't tend to carry things like that around with me."

Lucius muttered something irritably under his breath, what little patience he had previously possessed wearing very thin.

A small moan suddenly rose up from Draco, turning our concentration back to him.

Lucius looked tremendously relieved. "Oh thank Marlin! He's stopped."

"I dunno Lucius…he doesn't look at all well." I knelt down to brush away the damp white-blonde hair away from Draco's ashen face and pressed the back of my hand to his burning forehead. Straightening up, I shook my head grimly, "I think you should call for a Medi-Wizard," I informed him.

The relief vanished from Lucius' face even faster than it had appeared. "I don't like doctors," he said coolly, nostrils flaring. "I find them most unpleasant."

"I thought you had a family doctor?"

"Dead," Lucius informed me disdainfully. "Last year. Anyway, he never had much to do with Draco, not since he was a baby. My father never approved of doctors interfering. Mother went to a great deal of trouble to procure somebody who would agree to ah…keep their mouth shut."

Understanding dawned on me. "Oh, I see." I laughed humourlessly. "You don't want a stranger to take one look at the marks on your son's body and label you as an abusive father." Unmasked contempt dripped from my words.

Lucius swore heavily. "Oh, for god sake Severus-"

But I cut angrily across him, "Don't you 'for god sake Severus' me, Lucius Malfoy! Don't you _dare_ try to tell me that you are willing to deny your child the medical attention he obviously needs just for the sake of your blasted reputation!"

Lucius flushed heavily, but had the decency not to deny it.

"Just look at him!" I continued, gesturing elaborately. "Use a glamour charm if you must. Cover up the bruises, I dare say Narcissa's got something that'll do the job. I don't see what the problem is, anyway," I said bitterly. "Aren't you always telling me that it's the _fashionable_ thing? To abuse one's children?"

"Oh, get over yourself!" Lucius snapped. "Fine, I'll find a Medi-Wizard if it will shut you up for five minutes. Here, take him," the insufferable Mr Malfoy stood up and past the unconscious Draco to me. "Put him to bed. I'll see if I can find," he pulled a face, "a _doctor_."

* * *

As I carried Draco to his bedroom, I passed Narcissa floating down the hall. 

She stopped and smiled. "Oh, hello Severus."

"I inclined my head and returned the smile. "Narcissa, how are you?"

"I'm okay, thank you," she said, a little vaguely. "And yourself? You haven't been here for a while, have you? Have you been ill? Nothing serious, I hope?"

Her concern was genuine and I could only gather from this, that she had no idea of the fiasco that had taken place in her home. How nice it must be, to be so blissfully unaware of everything…

"Poor little thing," she continued, looking lovingly down upon her small son. "I do hope he'll be okay…" A slight frown appeared on her pretty face, but then she laughed. "It was strange, wasn't it? What happened at breakfast this morning? I rather think that it quite frightened Lucius. Wouldn't you agree Severus?"

Narcissa looked at me, her head tilted slightly to one side as she waited for my agreement. To satisfy her I nodded, pondering over the fact that she seemed to found the need to turn everything she said into a question, almost as though she needed reassurance that she was right, or wrong as the case may be. She really was _exactly_ like a child. I had heard Lucius say it before, many times in fact, but hadn't really taken it seriously. But now, I could see what he meant. It was rather disconcerting…

"But Draco has been acting rather oddly recently, hasn't he?" Narcissa carried on, her eyes suddenly sad as she watched her son. "I do hate to see him upset. It distresses me a great deal…" Her voice faded away as she spoke the last sentence and a far-away look passed over her expression.

I reached out to touch her shoulder, to pull her back into reality. "Lady Malfoy…"

Her head jerked up and piercing sapphire-blue eyes snapped to mine, capturing me in her gaze.

"You are wrong, you know," she told me, her voice clear and calm. "You are wrong about Lucius. He loves Draco. More than I. He wouldn't stand for Draco to be hurt, not by anything. Not by…anything…" Her eyes began to slide out of focus once more, but she managed to pull herself together before she slipped away completely.

Narcissa smiled awkwardly and moved quickly away with a small, "Excuse me."

She really was one of the strangest women I had ever come across. Not that I had come across many, I have to admit.

* * *

Draco had just about come around by the time Lucius had appeared with the Medi-Wizard, or witch as it turned out to be. 

She was neither young nor old and not especially remarkable in any way, but experience and confidence radiated from her as heat radiates from the sun.

Lucius strode in looking like a sullen child and glared at me, hating me for what I had made him do.

Draco pushed himself wearily into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Father…"

Lucius turned sharply, although I think it was unease more than anything and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. _'Careful,'_ it said.

"Hello sweetheart," the Med-Witch gushed, pushing past Lucius to sit beside Draco. "You must be Draco? Well, aren't you just the cutest thing ever!"

Lucius rolled his eyes behind her back and came over to stand next to me. "_Now_ do you see what I mean?" he hissed. "Sickening."

"Well, my name's Maureen," she practically purred, "and your dad's been telling me that you had quite a funny turn this morning. Is that right? Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco regarded her blankly.

Maureen's smile faltered slightly, clearly unused to treating such unresponsive children. But then, it was back as grotesquely sweet as ever. "Okay, so no talking. Shy huh?" She laughed and ruffled Draco's hair. "No problem, sweetie. We'll just get right to the point and see if we can find out what the problem is, is that okay?"

Draco nodded slowly, glancing over at his father.

Lucius shifted uncomfortably, looking very much as though he wanted to go and lock himself away in his study, leaving me to deal with everything. Again.

"_Don't even _think_ about it!_" I hissed, before he even had the chance to try and slink off.

But Maureen came to his rescue. "If you don't mind, gentlemen," she said coming over. "I would prefer it if you gave us some privacy. I generally find that children prefer it if their adults are out of the room. Less embarrassing, you know?"

I don't think Lucius did know, but it gave him an excuse to not be there to see her disapproval afterwards.

* * *

"Well, I'd better be off," Lucius announced, the second the door had closed behind us. He checked his watch frowning. "I have a meeting in half an hour, so I should be able to make it if I leave now. Tell her to charge the bill to my account." 

"What? No, wait! Lucius wait!" I ran down the hall after him. "You can't just leave, this is important! What if she finds something, I don't know, strange?"

Lucius stopped and turned so sharply, I almost ran headlong into him. "If something happens," he said in a tone which one usually reserves for very small and stupid children. "I would hope, that you would have the sense to owl me immediately." He frowned, then continued as an after thought, "but then you never did have much sense…ah well," Lucius shrugged and turned on his heal, calling over his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll be fine, Sev. Owl me if there are any complications."

I contemplated kicking the wall in frustration but, after weighing the pros and cons, decided against it. Not only would it probably break my foot, but if there was any damage to the wall and I would have to pay for it, the cost being more than I could afford in at least five years.

So, instead, I paced. Up and down the hall I strode; my feet marking the deep blood-red carpet with every step I made. Portraits of long deceased Malfoys began to mutter amongst themselves as I passed their frames for the sixth, seventh, even eighth time.

Finally though, one of them spoke up, sounding most irate. "You! Stop your wandering and come here!"

'So it's not just the recent generations who are insufferably rude'

"Yes?" I asked in my politest and most guest-like voice.

"Don't you 'Yes' me, boy!" Casuvias Malfoy barked from his gilded frame. "Do you know who I am?"

I considered my answer very carefully; to get on the wrong side of a portrait was highly inadvisable, particularly when they hung in Malfoy Manor. As in Hogwarts, the portraits had a very close relationship with the building and if you didn't watch what you said, you might end up in an unknown dungeon a thousand metres under the house, never to be seen again.

To be on the safe side, I kept my mouth shut.

"Do you have any idea how much this carpet costs?" Casuvius continued loudly. "A hell of a lot. That's how much! And every time some ignorant half-wit skips down this hall, at least fifty sickles are deducted from it's worth. _Fifty sickles!"_ he shook his head disgustedly. "At the rate you're going, boy, it's worthless now, I shouldn't wonder!"

"Oh, leave him alone Casuvius. He has as much right to walk on your precious carpet as everyone else." I looked around, wondering who had come to my defence and was happy to see Andrea Malfoy, whose portrait had hung in the room that had once been my sitting room.

A surprisingly amiable witch with whom I had spent many content hours discussing light topics such as the weather and currant Wizarding affairs. Nothing too heavy, as she did get confused terribly easily. Andrea had tried to explain her heritage to me one afternoon and became so flustered trying to remember all the names of both her ancestors and descendants, she actually fainted and didn't revive for at least three days. We stuck to discussing the breeding of hippogriffs after that.

She bore a striking resemblance to Narcissa, actually. I'm sure that they are directly related in some way…

"Just because you chose to spend the majority of your life elsewhere, _Andrea_, does not mean our family home is not something to be proud of or preserved." Casuvius gave me a nasty look. "Especially from the likes of persons such as _this_."

Andrea rolled her eyes. Despite being a hundred and twenty three when she died, her portrait was commissioned for her seventeenth birthday and, as such, was strikingly beautiful.

"You ignore him Severus," she told me kindly. "Just because _some _people choose to stay within the same dull walls their entire life, _Casuvius_," Andrea retorted. "Does not mean to say that they are better or in more authority than others. If Lucius likes him, you ought to respect that. You know perfectly well that he could have your portraits burned in an instant."

Casuvius humphed. "Lucius is an idiot. I do not know what Abraxas was thinking, only having one son." He shook his head regretfully, "Always have your options open, I say. Have at least six and choose the youngest. The eldest is always a disappointment." He turned to Andrea, their quarrel forgotten, "Who was it who started that _absurd_ tradition of having only one child? Do you remember?"

"Darling, you know what my memory's like. I find difficulty even remembering what day it is, for Merlin's sake."

"Ah, Merlin," said Casuvius, smiling dreamily. "Now _there's_ a wizard who should've been a Malfoy. Sensible, considerate. Not like Lucius. He's a dolt. Doesn't respect his elders, never did. Then again," he sniffed, glaring at me. "It seems _none_ of them do."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are horrendously old fashioned?" Andrea enquired sweetly. "One has to move with the times, Darling. Or so I'm told…"

"Well, you are told wrong."

I left the two of them to their bickering, thanking the supernatural, mythological or whatever being there was to thank that my family was neither as large nor as outspoken as the Malfoys, and trudged back to stand outside Draco's room, ignoring Casuvius' yells of, "Watch that carpet! Dolt!"

* * *

A/N: Hiya::waves arms dramatically (sp?) tu aime? It was going to be a whole lot longer, and i have a gid thing coming up, which i was going to include inthis chapet, but it turns out that it was already three times my normal length (hee hee!) but i'm doing lots at the moment, so it shouldn't be too long 'till the next update :)

Hope everyone's having a superb summer!! J

Lily xxx


	17. Part Three 4

Needless to say, the Medi-Witch was _not_ impressed when she discovered that Lucius had 'done a runner'.

"I simply don't know what the Ministry is thinking, bringing in all these muggle-protection laws, when they can't even protect their own." She muttered angrily, "It really makes you question their priorities, doesn't it? Right," Maureen handed me a folded piece of parchment. "Here is a list of things I have done and what I would recommend Mr Malfoy, you or whoever gives a damn about that poor boy, do as the next step."

"Did you find out what the problem is?" I asked as I followed her briskly down the stairs. "Is he ill?"

"Apart from the obvious," she responded coolly. "There is nothing physically wrong with Draco. However, I would recommend that he is admitted into St Mungo's. It is clear that Draco hasn't had the usual medical check-ups that Wizarding children usually have and Draco may need to have braces when he is older as it is too late for his teeth to be set with magic and it is probable that a lisp will develop."

I winced inwardly, somehow knowing that this news would _not_ please Lucius.

"Also," she continued. "Although, whilst I have checked Draco over and have healed the more obvious damage, I am afraid that there may be more injuries that could affect him when he is older."

"Yes, but what is wrong with him?" I demanded, a little more impatiently. "Why is he acting so oddly?"

Maureen turned abruptly and pursed her lips. "As I said, Draco is not physically ill, but I dread to think what mental problems that boy has. It is disgusting how frequently I have to deal with these cases; parents mistreat and neglect their little ones and then wonder why they don't turn into normal, stable human beings." She smiled dryly, "The stupidity of pure-blooded aristocracy never ceases to astound me."

For some reason, I desperately wanted to bite back, to make some snide comment and insult her heritage, to defend Lucius, even though she was parroting what I had been thinking for three years."

Instead, I simply said stiffly, "Your payment has been made to your Gringotts account. Good day." And showed her the door.

* * *

"What's been going on?" William demanded breathlessly, collapsing onto the settee in the drawing room. "I heard the portraits talking."

I looked up from the _Prophet_ and related everything that had happened that morning, my voice flat and tired.

To be honest, I was becoming thoroughly fed up with the Malfoys and was sincerely looking forward to the time when I would get my own job and my own life away from this godforsaken house. I didn't even need to be here, it wasn't as if I worked here any longer and my relationship with Lucius could hardly be described as friendly anymore.

No, it was for Draco. _Just_ for Draco. But sometimes, I questioned whether he really wanted me here, it's not as if he found it easy to talk to me anymore, not after I…

But I had tried leaving, I had tried running away, and the worry and the guilt and every other blasted feeling it caused me was a thousand times worse than struggling millimetre by millimetre here.

Damn the hold that boy had on me! Damn it!

"So really, you aren't any closer to finding out what is going on than you were last night?" William said, an amused smile playing irritatingly on his face. "Apart from discovering that Draco will need braces."

"Do you think I don't know that?" I snarled, throwing my paper on to the floor. "Do you think that I am not_ entirely_ aware of how bloody useless I am being? Of how _pointless_ every little thing I do is turning out to be? Do you _really_ think that I am than naïve?"

William flushed, his nostrils flaring wildly. "There's no need to be unpleasant about it," he said quietly. "You take everything far too seriously, Severus, you know that?"

But instead of consoling me, this only served to make my anger flare up all the more. "Well, somebody has to! Everyone else seems to think that this is one big joke, that Draco is merely a toy to be played with and then discarded. Well, it may have escaped your notice, but he isn't! He is a living, breathing child who is being forced to grow up too fast in a world full of things he shouldn't even know about and you're telling me to stop taking things so seriously?"

"Severus, I-"

"You're pathetic," I snapped, storming out. "You're all pathetic."

* * *

"Draco?"

"Yeah?" Draco sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to smile. "Feeling better?"

"A bit." He looked at me, and then studied his duvet. "I heard you shouting. Are you angry?"

"No," I said after a split-second of hesitation. "No, I'm not angry. Just…just tired, that's all."

"Oh, okay. Where's Father? I thought he was staying today."

My stomach lurched at the thought of having to explain to Draco that work was more important to his father than he was. "He had to go to the Ministry…very important meeting…"

Draco sighed and slumped down against the head-bored. "Thought so. Doesn't matter though, Father's very important so I s'pose they need him most." He smiled shyly, "I'm glad you're here though."

I tried to return the smile, but it just wouldn't come.

"Sir, are you sad?" Draco peered at me anxiously. "Why're you sad?"

"I'm not sad," I replied haggardly, holding my head in my hands. _'Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking!'_

"Sir?" I felt soft fingers brush against my hand and I looked up to see Draco staring at me, silver eyes wide with worry.

Then suddenly his expression changed, his gaze became unfocused and his breathing became shaky and nervous.

I frowned. "Draco, what's wrong."

"I…I uh…" he faltered, then, catching me off guard he darted forward…

And suddenly, Draco's lips were pressed hard against my own. I tasted his disappointment, fear, a longing to accepted and tainted innocence.

Tears trickled from his eyes, squeezed tight shut, onto my own face as he caught me in what can only barely be described as a kiss.

* * *

Sorry that it's short, but I'm going to france and won't have a computer.

Review!

Lily xxx


	18. Part Three 5

For what was probably only two or three seconds, but seemed to me to be hours, all of my senses were obscured; my ears numb, my vision blurred. Every feeling in my body was concentrated to the softness of Draco's lips.

I suddenly felt a quiet sob catch in Draco's throat and it was this that made me realise what was going on, this which brought back all feeling crowding back into my body.

I shoved Draco away from me as hard as I could, the back of my hand catching him sharply across the mouth as he fell backwards and struck his head on the wooden headboard.

"What the _hell_ do you think you are playing at?" I snarled, jumping to my feet, trembling with anger and confusion. "Do you have _any_ idea of how much trouble I would get in if your father found out about that? Well?"

Draco recoiled at my fury, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, frozen with fear.

"What, in Merlin's name, were you thinking, Draco?"

Draco trembled as I glared down at him, looking as though he might pass out. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.

"Well?" I demanded again.

"S-stop…stop sh-shouting," Draco stammered, wiping his mouth on the back of his pyjama sleeve. A red stain was left on the blue and white material. His eyes full of pain and anguish. "You said…you said you'd listen."

"Listen? Listen to what, Draco?" I cried in exasperation. "You aren't talking to me! Do you realise how _hard_ I have tried for you? How much I have worked and sacrificed to try to make things better for you? Well, how can I if you won't even speak to me? And now this! _What were you thinking_?"

"You're not listening!" Draco shouted, scrambling unsteadily out of bed and pushing past me. "You said…" he licked his lips and took a deep breath. "You said, if I wanted to talk to you then you'd listen. Didn't you "

"Yes, but-"

"Well what if…" Draco's bottom lip trembled and he looked away. "What if I don't know how to say what I want to say?"

Then he whipped around and fled, leaving me alone in the company of a very bad migraine.

I sat down heavily, my hands shaking. What had just happened? What was going on? What the _hell_ had I just done?

'_Oh, don't worry,'_ said the little voice in my head, dripping with sarcasm. _'You only shouted at him, then hit him. But I'm sure it doesn't matter.'_

"Shit shit SHIT!" I kicked off my shoes and lay down on Draco's bed, staring up at the dark ceiling as I tried to pull myself together

I hadn't _meant_ to shout. But it was the shock, more than anything, that had made me lose it. The shock of little eight-year-old Draco Malfoy kissing like a…like a…like a child with far too much experience. Like a little boy who had been taught that kissing people makes them more amiable…

'_Congratulations,'_ said that damnable voice, sounding irritatingly like Lucius. _'Now we're getting somewhere. Now, who taught him that?'_

"Narcissa," I whispered aloud. "It's Narcissa." I groaned, realising that this comprehension made everything a thousand times more complicated. For one thing, I knew that Draco refused to hear a word against his mother and would probably never speak to me again if I got her into trouble and for another, for some reason, I couldn't imagine Lucius taking kindly to the news that his wife has been sexually abusing his son and heir. And anyway, Narcissa probably didn't even realise that she was doing it.

I swore emphatically under my breath and pondered my next move. Of course, I would have to speak properly with Draco first, get my fact completely straight before charging off in which ever direction I chose to take.

'_Easier said than done,'_ said the voice I was going to murder if it didn't shut up. _'Especially after your little outburst just then.'_

I told it to go stick itself somewhere, but it simply called me crude and unsophisticated, then told me to do the same.

'_Anyway, don't forget that you still have to break it to Lucius that Draco needs braces.'_ It said slyly. _'And I don't 'spect you shall live through that.'_ It smirked and slunk off.

Frowning deeply, I closed my eyes and dreamt a blissful dream of having a substantial job and earning a substantial amount by doing very little, where everybody was relatively happy and didn't expect me to sort out all of their problems. Where little boys played Quidditch every day and had parents who were reasonably sane and the sea was made out of coconut ice cream and the clouds out of chantilly…

* * *

"Severus! For god's sake, wake up!"

"What?" I demanded blearily, glaring at William who stood over me, looking quite panic-stricken. "What's happening?"

"It's Draco, he's disappeared!"

I sat up abruptly, instantly wide-awake. "What do you mean 'disappeared'? He can't just _disappear_!"

"Run away, then," William corrected flapping his hands agitatedly, glasses practically falling off his nose. "What difference does it make anyway? He's gone and we are going to get the blame if he doesn't come back!"

Wearily, I stood up and tried to smooth my robes into some sort of order. "How do you know he has run away?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"The portraits saw him," came the simple, dismissive reply. "According to them, he was in quite a state. I have checked all over the house, but I can't find him anywhere."

"And the garden?"

"It is a _very_ big garden," William muttered a little defensively. "I thought we might split up."

Well, we searched and we searched- Every area; North, South, East and West- were thoroughly combed. The maze was checked, as was the forest area at the bottom of the fountain garden. But Draco was nowhere to be found.

It was the peacocks who turned out to be the biggest help.

They informed me excitedly that they had seen him running down the lane towards the gate that marked the end of the Malfoy Estate. But hadn't really been paying attention and so weren't really sure whether he had gone out or not.

I thanked the peacocks for their help and, trying not to step on their ghostly-white forms as they crowded around me, stepped over them and made my way down to the road; half-hoping that Draco was there and half-hoping that he wasn't…

'_Oh please don't let him have been run over!'_

The image of Draco lying in a pool of blood in the middle of a busy rod spurred me into a run. It was completely ridiculous, of course, Draco wasn't stupid enough to get hit by a car. But distress does terrible things to people's minds, especially children's, it confuses you…makes you careless…

I heard Draco before I laid eyes on him; a frightened whimpering sound came from beneath a bush not a hundred metres from the gate.

Freedom, apparently, was much more frightening than Draco had initially anticipated. A trembling, wild-eyed little boy, peered up at me tearfully as I crouched down in the dead-leaves, a nasty bruise stood out against his still deathly pale skin.

"So, where were you going off to?" I asked gently, half smiling.

A small shrug was all the answer I received, eyes averted.

"Where do you want to go? We could go together."

This time Draco looked at me, at the hand that was held out towards him. Shakily, he took it and I helped him to his feet.

"Am I in trouble?" Draco whispered, peering anxiously down the lane behind me, in case somebody was there waiting to kidnap him. Then, more fearfully, "Are you still angry?" A hand moved instinctively up to touch his bruised mouth and he moved back a step.

"I was never _angry_, as such," I tried to explain guiltily. "But can't you understand why I… why I reacted so badly?"

Draco hunched his shoulders. "You _said_ you would listen. You _promised_."

There was nothing I could say in my own defence, nothing that hadn't already been said, anyway. We were just going round and round in circles…so I threw down my trump card.

"I know what's going on with you."

Draco barely reacted. A tiny flicker of fear crossed his face, but he gave no other sign that he had heard me.

I knelt down in the auburn carpet of dead leaves and gently tilted the boy's head up. Silver flashed sharply up, startling me somewhat.

"How? How do you know? Who told you?" The defence laced in his words surprised me and I faltered.

"Nobody…nobody _told_ me, as such. But Draco, it is _painfully_ obvious why you are…what the problem is. I should have said something as soon as I found out-"

"You _knew?_" Draco cried, backing away disbelievingly.

"Well, yes but I didn't think it was that serious. I didn't think you wanted me to interfere." I was feeling very bemused and not a little wrong footed. "Draco, I didn't want to make things worse for you…" I reached out to take Draco's hand, but the boy yanked it away, staring at me as though he had never seen me before.

"You knew and you let it happen?" he said shakily. "I thought you were going to protect me. I thought you wanted to help me! Don't touch me!"

I held up my hands in defence. "I didn't know how far it was going to go! Christ, Draco! I can't get anything right, can I?"

"Leave me alone…" Draco sat down heavily, wrapping his arms tightly around his body as he stared blindly down the lane. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"Do you want me to help?" Draco stared at me incredulously, but I continued, "Look, this isn't just going to simply go away. Your father is going to be _very_ angry and I know you love your mother much and don't want her to get hurt, but what she is doing to you-"

"_Mother_?" Draco cried. "You think it's _Mother_ who's…she would never…No!"


	19. Part Three 6

"_Mother_?" Draco cried. "You think it's _Mother_ who's…she would never…No!"

A feeling not dissimilar to have icy water tipped over one's head washed over me. I had counted on it being Narcissa, because if it wasn't…well, that only left to options, didn't it? William, and I was certain it wasn't him, and Lucius.

"Draco," I gently cupped the little boy's pallid face in my hands. "I know that things haven't between the same between us since I left," At this, Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips miserably together. "But that hasn't stopped me from caring about you. Nothing has changed in that sense."

"I wanted you to come back," came the whispered voice. "I wanted it so bad. More than I've ever wanted anything before. You…you don't know what it's like, to be alone like I was. And then somebody comes," a faint smile ghosted across Draco's saddened face. "And they make you feel special and safe. But to have that, like I had with you, only for it to be taken away so sudden…you don't know how bad that feels. You don't know how bad that hurts."

I felt Draco shudder and his head drooped, concealing his face behind a curtain of white-blonde hair.

"And I know, even though you said you would, I know you aren't staying. Not like before. So…so what's the point of being nice and listenin' to me, like you say you will, if you're just going to go away again an' leave me on my own? I-I don't want to be hurt again. Not by you. Not by you, Sir."

My arms fell limply to my side. "So, you want me to go and stay away? Leave you alone for good?" I said flatly.

Draco's head jerked up in alarm and his thin hands shot out to grab hold of my arm. "No!" he cried. "No, I just…I want…I don't know I don't know! I just want you to _mean_ it Sir." Draco bowed his head and pressed my hand to his forehead. "I want it like it was before, but I want you to _mean_ it. I want you to like me and mean it."

I was about to open my mouth, to ask him to explain what in earth he was talking about, but Draco interrupted me. "It's just, you've been so _angry_ recently," he said quietly. "I haven't ever seen you like that, 'cept that time with Father. And then…" Draco stopped and raised a hand gingerly to his mouth, to touch the mark from where I had struck him. "And He said…He said you went 'cause of me, 'cause I was causing you trouble and you thought that I was annoying an' stupid. He said why should you like someone who was as horrible and spoilt as me? He said…" A shadow passed across my godson's face and I felt a shudder course through his little body. His hands tightened unconsciously around my wrist, his eyes suddenly became unfocused.

I bit my lip in concern. "Draco? Come on, Dragon, you're doing so well. Just keep it up a little longer."

A tiny, frightened whimper slipped out between Draco's lips and I tried to draw him to me, to comfort him. But he pulled away.

"He says that nobody will ever like me or want to stay with me unless…unless I…" Draco looked up through lowered eyelashes, his eyes searching mine. "He said you hated me," the boy told me, expression confused and distressed. "He said you was only saying 'cause…'cause…"

"Because what?" I pressed, almost afraid of what I would hear. What poisonous words had Lucius been feeding to his son? "What did he say?"

"He said you was only staying 'cause I owed you. 'Cause I owed you for all the things you have done for me and that you was only pretending to like me and really you hated me. I-I didn't believe him, not at first. But then you yelled at me…"

My mind reeled as I listened to him; so much had happened in just one day, my brain was having difficulty processing it all.

"So…so is it true?" asked Draco tremulously. "Are you really just staying 'cause you want me to-"

"No!" I shouted. Then, as Draco flinched, quieter. "No, Dragon. Of course it isn't true. Not one word of it. Come on, come here," I held out my arms to him and, this time, Draco crept into my embrace, allowing me to hold him close. "I have never _ever_ said anything like that to anyone," I told him, running my fingers through his hair. "You do not owe me a thing, Draco. The only reason I have been angry lately is because I hate seeing you so unhappy and being unable to do a thing about it."

Draco pressed himself against me, holding onto my arm as though I would disappear if he let go.

"Thank you, Sir."

* * *

"_**Braces?**_" 

Lucius' voice, raised and angry, echoed off the stone walls of the entrance hall as Draco and I stepped over the threshold, and then William's, "It really is for the best…"

Draco shrank back, staring apprehensively towards the door from which the voices came.

"Go," I whispered, giving him a little push in the direction of the grand-staircase. "Go to your room. I'll hold him off for as long as I can."

Draco nodded and gave me a quick smile of gratitude before running upstairs.

I smoothed down my shirt, picking off the bits of dried leaves and twigs that had stuck to me, and then strode purposefully towards the sitting room.

Lucius leapt at me (metaphorically, of course) the moment he saw me. "Well?" he demanded. "Have you found him? Where is he?"

I brushed audaciously past him. "Oh yes," I responded, reclining on the sofa. "I found him alright. Had quite an interesting conversation with him, actually."

Lucius' pale eyes narrowed and William pushed his glasses up his nose, both looking very uncomfortable. Where they, I wondered, both in on it? But I dismissed this immediately. William would've told me if he had known anything, I know he would.

"What do you mean? Has Draco told you what's going on?"

I nodded brusquely. "Mmm hmm."

"_And_?" snapped Lucius impetuously. "For Merlin's sake, Severus! I _need_ to know! I'm his bloody father! You cannot keep something like this from me!"

If I had not known better, I would have thought that the desperation in Lucius' voice was authentic.

We stared squarely at one another, each waiting for the other to break first. But Lucius was revealing nothing. Finally, I said quietly, "I need to talk with you privately."

Looking stupendously relieved, William scooted away with a fading, "I'll just go and check on Draco then, shall I?"

Lucius rounded on me. "Well, what is it?"

"I need a drink first."

When a glass of something blue and smoking hand been shoved into my hand and I had gathered my wits together, I took a deep breath and blurted out everything that had happened since Lucius had run off- from the kiss to the terrible things that had been whispered into his son's ear, to the recognition that little Draco Malfoy was being sexually violated.

I watched, un-amused, as Lucius' expression became increasingly horrified. He was, if nothing else, a remarkably talented actor.

When I had finished my tale, I sat back and clutched my empty glass tightly in my lap, concealing my shaking hands and preserving my image of control.

It took Lucius several moments to regain some sort of composure. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, then said, "And you are sure of this, are you? You aren't just jumping to conclusions?"

"I am one hundred percent certain."

"And…and you know who is doing this?"

This simple sentence, so innocently spoken, caused something fragile to snap violently inside me. I couldn't play this game any longer. I couldn't afford to tiptoe around anymore.

"Oh don't play so bloody innocent with me, Lucius Malfoy!" I snarled. "Yes, I know who is responsible! And if you think that I am going to leave Draco with you for one more second…if you think that I am simply going to sit back and watch as you _destroy_ that boy-"

"_**What?**_" Lucius' cry of disgust stopped me mid-sentence. "You think that it's _me_? How dare you! How dare you even _think_ that I would do something so…so _twisted_! He is my _son_ for christ's sake! What kind of sick pervert do you take me for?"

His outrage, to my dismay, was genuine.

"You mean, it isn't you?" I said, a little dimly. "You aren't the one to whom Draco is referring as 'He'?"

Lucius made a jerky movement with his hand, as though he would dearly like to curse me for even suggesting it. "And how do _I_ know that it isn't you?" he bit back cruelly. "How do I know you aren't simply trying to cover your own tracks?"

"Yeah, because that's _really_ how I get my kicks, isn't it? From leering over good-looking little boys whose parents are too wrapped up in themselves to look out for them." I made a revolted sound through my nose. "Because I would really go around making friends and gaining their trust just so I could molest them, wouldn't I? What?"

Lucius had suddenly turned a ghostly shade of white and looked like he was about to throw up.

He had just opened his mouth to say what was on his mind, when a terrible explosion sounded like a canon from upstairs. From Draco's bedroom…

I realised instantly what Lucius had known only a second or two before. Our eyes met, mirroring the same horrified realisation.

William!

* * *

My deepest wish is that I could say, truthfully, that I had been wrong or at least that it had not been as serious or the effects as long lasting as they were. 

But to say that would be a lie.

It was Lucius who got there first, with me not a second behind him. The door crashed open, reverberating on its hinges and revealing a sight which still causes a feeling of physical nausea to wash though me if ever I recall it.

If there was ever a moment in my life when time literally halted, it was then.

Draco, cowering terrified against the head-bored, was weeping openly as a decidedly-singed looking William stood over him, a slightly manic expression glinted behind his spectacles.

My eyes, and I am sure Lucius' too, were drawn to the tears and missing buttons in Draco's blue and white stripped pyjamas and to the open zip in William's trousers. The smell of immature, desperate magic drifted through the air.

As though it were slow-motion, both Draco's and William's heads turned towards us and then suddenly Draco had leapt, hysterical, out of the reach of William and attached himself to Lucius.

"Father, help me!" he cried clutching at Lucius' arm. "Please Father, make it stop!"

Slowly, Lucius looked down upon Draco, only half seeing, only half understanding. Not really wanting to believe or accept what was now right before his eyes.

Then, in a flash, he had pushed Draco to once side and, before anybody could even blink, he had William pinned up against the wall, wand cutting off then man's air.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Lucius roared. "What. Have. You. DONE?!"

William quailed. "It…it i-isn't what it l-l-looks like…" he managed to choke, struggling to breath. "Draco, he…he wanted…"

This only served to earn the pathetic little man a painful jab in the throat. "If I hear one more word," promised Lucius, his voice shaking in a most uncharacteristic way. "I swear I will kill you."

"B-but-"

"SHUT UP!" A sound as loud and as sharp as a gun shot sounded accompanied by a flash, and then William had fallen to the ground, reduced to a sobbing heap.

Stiffly, Lucius turned to me. "I need you to get Draco away from here," he spoke quietly, obviously struggling to keep his emotions under control. "Take him to your house, keep him safe."

I nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course."

"I'll…I'll come pick Draco up some time tomorrow. I've got to…" but he couldn't continue without giving himself away. Brushing his hand roughly across his face, Lucius turned his back on me. ""Just get him away from here, Sev."

"Come on, Draco." I tried to take Draco's hand, hoping that he would come willingly, but a little of his magic was still on guard and I had to draw me hand away as it crackled like static electricity. Draco didn't even notice me; he simply stared numbly ahead of him, head slightly tilted, his little body quivering violently.

The need to remove him from this house was strong though, so I swept Draco swiftly into my arms and took him away. Away from William. Away from his father. Away from the house where it had all happened…

And I shut the door on the lot of it.

* * *

A/N:smirk: And you lot thought it was Lucius! heh heh...kay, smugness over :-) out of curiosity, would people prefer long chapters and less updates, or short chapters and more frequent updates? 

danke! Lily xxx


	20. Part Three 7

The journey to my home was, thank Merlin, gloriously uneventful. The Knight Bus was prompt and we were paid little attention save from a couple of comments from the jovial female conductor ("Quiet little thing isn't he? Is he yours?" and "You ain't kidnappin' him, are you? Not that I blame you mind.") and, apart from an old man who I was sure had passed away without anybody noticing, we were the only passengers.

Draco sat on my lap with his head resting against my chest and sucked his thumb, taking it out only for a minute to sip at a mug of watery hot-chocolate. My godson was still tense and he had not stopped shivering since we had left the manor. Luckily, I had thought to bring a coat, as the only other thing Draco was wearing were his torn pyjamas.

I dreaded to think of the repercussions all this would have on Draco's future life, as all this could hardly be swept under the carpet.

Of course, that would all depend on how far William had actually gone. The thought of his lips forced against Draco's was ghastly enough, but my mind was being constantly drawn to the image of William- hair ruffled, glasses askew…trousers undone.

I physically shuddered and held Draco just a little bit tighter as though, by protecting him now, I could erase all the terrible things that had been forced upon him.

But it was too late. Nothing I could do now, would change the fact that it _had_ happened and we would all have to suffer the consequences.

As much as I tried to force it from my mind, one word plagued me as I watched the world pass by; _Rape_.

* * *

I carried Draco up the street approaching Spinner's End with very mixed feelings. It seemed somewhat ironic, to me anyway, that the house which I had grown to loath so much would, in the end, be used as a place of safety. I was sure there something funny there, but I failed to see it.

There are only seven houses making up the street and only two, at that point, were occupied-, both of which had dim lights glowing from the downstairs windows.

Now, in normal circumstances, a light in the living room would be considered a very welcoming sign, but now it only made my heart sink even lower. I was in no mood to deal with either of my parents tonight.

I traipsed reluctantly through the little iron gate, rusty and half off its hinges, and across the uneven stone paving to the porch.

I fumbled around in my many pockets, trying to locate my key, only to find that I had most definitely misplaced it.

My hand hovered over the brass knocker, nailed just below the number seven. My other hand gripped Draco's shoulder as the little boy leaned wearily against me. Mentally cursing myself for being such an idiot, I rapped three times upon the door and waited for one of my beloved parents to let us in.

As the sound of approaching footsteps became louder, my heart began to race and I held onto Draco a fraction tighter, for my own comfort more than anything.

I heard the bolt being slid across and then the key click in the lock, then the door swung open.

A woman, her arms folded across her chest, dressed in a grey-flannel dressing gown, stood in the doorway and regarded us with one raised eyebrow and a tight, un-amused smile.

"So, the prodigal son has returned," said my mother unsmilingly.

I sighed, "Hello Mother."

"Hmm." Her disapproving glare swept lazily from my face to scrutinise Draco, who was huddling against me. "And what is this?" she demanded, nose twitching. "Another of your strays, Severus? Did I not make it clear that that damnable feline was the last straw?"

"This is Draco," I replied, fighting to keep my voice even. It would not do to be turned out of my home on a night such as this. "You remember; the one I was working with?"

"Yes, the one you were obsessing over not a month ago?" Mother's mouth twitched into a slight, mocking smile. "So you finally had the guts to kidnap him? Well don't think that you're hiding him here, Severus. I'm not having Lucius Malfoy on _my_ door-step making trouble, just for the sake of a child." She took a step back and made to shut the door, "I'm not having it Severus!"

"No!" My hand shot out to stop her. "Just…Just shut up a moment, won't you, and let us in!"

She scowled at me suspiciously, but stepped aside and let us pass.

The hallway was completely dark; the only light coming from the little kitchen just past the stairs. I pulled Draco into the sitting room and flicked on the switch. Luckily the little boy was still too numb to notice the light bulb and various electrical appliances scattered about the place.

My mother led us into the small sitting room, dimly lit by a small, candle-filled chandelier which dangled precariously from the ceiling, casting shadows about the room and making it seem even more ominous than it did during the day.

Nothing had changed.

"Now, I don't want a sound," my mother said, moving dusty cushions uselessly around on the thread-bare sofa. "Not from either of you. I would have set up the spare room, if you'd given me a bit of notice, Severus," she continued, glaring at me as though I had done her a great injustice. "You know we're tight for space…"

"I would've owled, but it was all a bit…well, sudden," I tried to explain, as I attempted to manoeuvre a dozey Draco onto the sofa. The boy sat where I had put him- unmoving, unblinking- his face had taken on a slightly green tinge that suggested he might throw up any moment.

My mother would _not_ be happy.

She regarded him, her sharp face taking on a suddenly pensive expression. If I hadn't known better, I would almost have taken it for motherly concern. But, as it happened, I _did_ know her better.

Then she turned on her heel with an abrupt, "Help me with the tea, Severus."

I nodded brusquely to her back, then looked anxiously to Draco. "Will you be all right? I'll just be in the next room."

"Yeah," he breathed, slumping against the worn cushions and closing his eyes sleepily.

I waited for a moment, just to be certain, the rose quietly and went to the kitchen where my mother was filling a kettle with water.

She did not turn from her task when I entered; instead she spoke with her back to me, "Explain."

A feeling of minor apprehension came over me. She had always appeared terribly sinister to me, particularly as a small boy. Although she had never done anything which would cause me to fear to outwardly fear her, I had always regarded her with the same wariness and reserve.

"I had to bring him here, "I tried to explain, pulling out one of the four rickety wooden chairs that were placed around the small table. "It won't be for long, though. His father will be coming to pick him up tomorrow."

"I see…" She walked across to the little stove and lit it with a snap of her fingers. "Get some mugs from the cupboards, won't you?"

I did as she bid, setting two chipped cups down upon the side board.

When the tea had been made, we sat at the table in silence; I fiddled uncomfortably with the cuff of my right sleeve, feeling my mother's dark eyes bore into me.

It shouldn't have been that awkward, I remember think to myself. She's my _mother_ for Merlin's sake!

Suddenly, her sharp, clear voice cut through the silence, just as it was becoming unbearable, "I knew you would do it eventually."

"Hmm?" I raised my head. "Do what?"

She smirked slightly and sipped at her tea, "Kidnap that boy, of course. Lord knows you've gone on about it enough."

"I have _not_ kidnapped Draco!" I retorted waspishly. "Something….something happened and Lucius needed me to take Draco somewhere safe-"

"So you came here?" Mother cut in, a single dark eyebrow raised in subtle amusement.

"Yes. As I said, it was all very sudden. I didn't really have time to think properly." I sighed and rubbed my eyes, setting down my untouched mug of tea back down on the table. "I need to talk to him," I mumbled, rising. "I have to…I have to sort this out. I have to know…"

My mother leaned forward on her elbows. "Now, I don't know what has happened. I don't know what you want him to tell you. But by the looks of things, that little boy is n no fit state to tell you anything." There was no mocking undertone, no snide expression. I appreciated that in a way that is difficult to describe.

I gave a moan of frustration and helplessness. She was right, of course. Even if Draco did mange to speak to me for more than three sentences without being sick, whatever he did say would, admittedly, be worth very little. I imagine that Draco was as confused about the past couple on months as I was.

"There is a way though," she continued, suddenly thoughtful. "There is a way you could get him to talk."

I raised my head wearily, willing to take on board any suggestions. I was just _so_ tired!

"Veritaserum."

"_What_?"

"Veritaserum," she repeated as though I was deaf. "A couple of drops in a glass of water, just to encourage him."

I considered this; for one thing, I wasn't sure that Lucius would be happy if he found out that I had drugged his son, and for another…well, truth-serum was extremely potent and using it rashly on small children could be extremely dangerous…

But I _had_ to know, and I had to know soon. If this was the only way…

"Fine," I said grimly. "But just a drop."

* * *

A/N: Thankyou for the feedback, but I figured, considering I've got my prelims due, I'll just update as frequently as I can...sorry about that.

As ever, thankyou for the reviews!!!!

Lily xxx


	21. Draco's Soliloquy

Warning!!!!!! Ultra-Angst!!!!

* * *

"Draco?" I tugged the sleepy boy's limp form onto my lap and smoothed his damp hair away from his clammy forehead. "You have to wake up for a while," I murmured as Draco gave a little moan of protest. "Just for a little while whilst we get things sorted out. Then you can sleep for as long as you like."

"Nooo…" Draco cried out pitifully, twisting around to hide his face. "I can't…please don't make me…"

"Here," suddenly, my mother appeared- a beaker clasped in both hands. "I mixed it with honey and water," she explained as she knelt down and pressed it into my fingers. "It's very diluted so it is _vital_ that he drinks all of it, otherwise it won't be effective."

Sluggishly, Draco lifted his head as I accepted the cup and held it out for him. "Dragon, I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me?"

Uneasily, Draco nodded and slowly, with me helping him not to spill, he managed to consume the entire concoction.

It took only a couple of seconds for the potion's heady effect to kick in. Draco's eyes became glassy and he gave a little twitch as though a bolt of electricity had shot though him.

"It's working," my mother sighed, relief obvious in her tone. Then to Draco, "How do you feel?"

My godson looked at her somewhat vaguely and frowned. "I-I dunno…strange."

"Can you remember what happened?" I asked, setting the empty vessel down upon the floor. "Do you remember why you're here?"

Draco nodded, eyes set on the chair opposite. "Yeah; Father wanted me out the way 'cause…'cause of what happened with Dr Southard."

"What did happen with Dr Southard?" Draco looked up at me, eyes wide- silently pleading me not to ask. "Draco, this is important. You have _got_ to tell me what happened."

"He was angry at me," Draco whispered, eyes going cloudy at the memory. "Really angry 'cause he knew I kissed you…he didn't like that. He said it was a dirty thing to do. He said that you'd expect more. But I told him you didn't. I told him what you said before but that made him even madder…"

I met my mother's eyes- I had never seen that look on her face before. And, to be honest, there was a slight pang of jealousy that it was for Draco and not for me.

"Did he try to take off your clothes?" I pressed.

Draco gave a little nod, flushing heavily with embarrassment. "Yeah…he was going to but then he 'sploded. I-I dunno what would've happened if he hadn't. 'sploded, I mean."

"Do you know why that happened?"

Draco faltered, "I don't know…but I think it may've been me, 'cause my head went all tingly just before it happened. I didn't mean to though, I swear! But he was going to…he was going to…like he done before only more 'cause he was angrier than he was before. And…and I got scared 'cause I knew he was going to hurt me and I thought that you were going to come and stop him like you said you was going to, but you didn't. Not for ages. And he knew that I'd told you!"

Draco's voice had been increasing in pitch steadily and was now so shrill I could barely make out a word he was saying.

"Why'd you tell him, Sir?" he raised his teary face to mine- eyes bright and confused. "Why'd you let him come for me when you said you'd stop him?"

My discomfort was becoming increasingly harder to bear as both my mother's and my godson's eyes were fixed accusingly on me.

Ignoring Draco's question for the time being, I swivelled the boy around and looked deep into his eyes.

It was clear that the small amount of Veritaserum in Draco's body wasn't going to be effective enough to coax him into telling me willingly, and there was no way I was going to make the dose stronger, so I would have to combine what little there was with another method.

"Draco?"

He regarded me miserably; shivering in his torn pyjamas.

"Do you remember when you met that man with the red eyes?"

A sharp intake of breath told me exactly how much Draco remembered that night. "Yes. I remember."

"And do you remember when he went into your mind?"

"Mmm hmm…" Draco watched me with growing trepidation; milk teeth, once again, gnawing on his bottom lip.

I picked my words carefully, "Would it be okay," I said slowly. "If I did that? Would you let me into your mind?"

The moment the words had left my lips, Draco shrank back, shaking his head rapidly. "No! Please don't! I don't want to remember…" he was crying in earnest now; big tears rolled down his cheeks and his hands were pushing against my chest. "I just want to forget…I want to forget about everything!"

"It isn't going to hurt," I tried to assure him. Draco looked at me sceptically, so I continued, "I know that it did last time, but remember when you said that something got broken when he went into your mind? Well, that means that it will be much easier and much less painful than it was before. And besides," I added, "I promise that the moment it gets too much, we'll stop."

"Why d'you want to anyway?" Draco whispered hoarsely. "Why's it so important? What do you want to know so bad?"

His questions- so innocently spoken- caught me off guard and I faltered a little; I had (foolishly) assumed that Draco knew what I was trying to ask and was just unsure of what to say or scared of the repercussions of finally 'revealing' what had been going on. But, it appeared that I had been more nervous of actually asking the questions than he was of answering them. God, I was such a _great_ adult!

"I need to know exactly what Dr Southard did to you. I know that it is difficult for you to talk about it, especially after everything that has happened tonight, but if we just get this over and done with as soon as possible then you never have to think about it again. And besides," I smiled sadly, smoothing Draco's hair away from his face. "There may be certain…_effects_ in the future. And, as long as we know what has happened, then you will be able to get help."

Draco hid his face behind trembling fingers, then gave a little nod of agreement.

My mother rose then, drawing her dressing gown tighter over her shoulders. "Would you like me to hold him?" she asked. "It may be easier."

"Yes. Thank you."

We exchanged places; Draco settling on my mothers lap without a sound. They looked very nice together, I realised- his almost shining paleness contrasting beautifully with her dark complexion.

Kneeling up, I gently tugged the little boy's hands away from his face, with a murmured, "Draco, look at me."

He did as I asked, unshed tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. My mother's hand came up to caress his hair, willing him to relax and make the invasion easier to bear.

As carefully as I could, I pushed into Draco's mind. Luckily, the small amount of Veritaserum had relaxed his wits enough to make it relatively effortless although I felt Draco flinch when I had breached his defences.

Draco's voice- whispered and distant- echoed in my ears as though he were a long way away.

'_Everything was bad when you left. Even before Dr Southard, even when you was still writing to me…I hated it. It wasn't even 'cause of Father- he was nicer for while- but it was just so different without you there. I had so much I needed to say that I couldn't say to Father and when I wrote it to you...I didn't really understand what you were saying. Father was so angry when he found out about the letters. He forbade me from talking about you and he ripped them up. He told me to forget that you were ever here. But I couldn't._

'_I did try, though. To stop thinking about you, I mean. But I worried about why you had stopped writing back to me so suddenly. I thought, maybe you had found another job with another boy who was better and cleverer than me. Or you'd figured that it was too much bother to look out for someone like me. Half of me wanted you to come back and half of me was scared that, even if you did, it wouldn't be the same. And I got angry 'cause all the things you said and all the promises you made…in the end you didn't mean then and then I'd be angry at myself for letting myself believe that you were for real._

_Then Father told that there was going to be a new man to teach me and he wasn't going to stand for any nonsense and I'd have to work twice as hard to catch up with everything I'd missed with you and if I didn't…_

'_So Dr Southard came. He was alright at first…Nice. Patient. Like you were…I didn't want to like him, though. I thought if I didn't talk to him and didn't do anything he told me to, he'd get really mad and hurt me so then I'd tell father and he'd send him away and then he'd make you come back 'cause I wouldn't be good for anyone 'cept you._

'_But he didn't. He was nice to me even though I was horrible to him. And I started to like him even though I'd promised myself that I wouldn't. I think I sort of pretended that he was you and I started to trust him and like him like I liked you 'cause I thought if I wished enough…he'd turn into you._

'_It was really good for ages…but I 'spose I should've known something would go wrong. It always does in the end. I wish he'd just done something big right at the beginning…or anytime, I guess. It would've been better 'cause then I would've known for definite._

'_But then…he got a bit funny. There was this time- the first time something happened- I wasn't feeling so good that day. Father had got angry at me in the morning and I couldn't concentrate properly on what Dr Southard was telling me to do and I kept getting things wrong. But he didn't help me like he did before but he wasn't getting cross at me neither. I got scared 'cause I thought he was going to tell on me and then Father would be even angrier at me but Dr Southard…he said that he wouldn't tell on me to Father if I let him kiss me. So I did 'cause I thought it would be better than getting hit by Father._

'_Then he started doing it every time I got something wrong. Even if it were just little things. He'd say that, unless I let him kiss me, he'd tell Father that I'd done something really really bad. I didn't like it, but I let him do it. I 'spose I shouldn't have but I didn't know. After a while, though I tried to make him stop 'cause I hated it and he was doing it more and more. I said that if he made me kiss him, I'd tell Father. But Dr Southard said that Father wouldn't believe me and he'd think I was lying. And even if he did believe me, he said, Father would know that I'd let him and Father would think I was dirty. _

'_He stopped being so nice as well. If I tried to push him away he'd get really mad and start putting his tongue in my mouth and he'd bite my lip to make it bleed. He stopped waiting for me to get something wrong too, so I never knew when he was going to do something…_

'_I guess it was better then 'cause at least I could avoid him when there wasn't lessons. But one day…he started to come into my bedroom at night. It was always not long after I had gone to bed so that I wasn't asleep. At first, I tried to pretend that I was. Asleep, I mean, but then he'd just sit on my bed and I'd know that he was there and I wouldn't be able to sleep then and I'd know that he knew I was awake really so there wasn't any use in pretending._

'_He didn't like me talking to other people neither. He said they didn't like me and if I tried to talk to them they'd be horrible to me, so it was for my own good if _I_ stayed away from people. That's what he said at my birthday party. I did try to, but then Theodore Nott came and started talking to me and wouldn't go away. I could feel Dr Southard watching me too and I knew I would be in trouble later if Theo kept trying to talk to me. So I hit him. Father was furious with me after, but at least I hadn't gotten into trouble with Dr Southard._

'_He started talking about you a lot as well, about a week before my birthday. He wanted me to tell him everything about you and why you had left. When I said I didn't know, he kept going over all the reasons you may've not wanted to stay. He said that maybe you were bored with me or you thought I was a horrible, ungrateful person 'cause I never gave you anything back for all the nice things you did for me. But the worst thing was that he kept repeating all the things that had been going through my head and, now somebody else had said them, I started to believe them._

'_He made me believe that the only reason you would ever come back to me was 'cause I owed you. The day you came back, before I saw you, we were s'posed to be having lessons; Father wanted to test me that week, but all he talked about was you. I know now that he knew that you was coming back, but he didn't tell me. He kept going over and over all the things he'd said and if I ever saw you again, I wasn't to have anything to do with you 'cause you'd try to hurt me._

'_I got angry…or scared or both, I don't know. I did something to him, but I can't remember what. I was so angry at you and him and upset, I can't remember what happened. But he went to fetch Father and Father knew that something was wrong and he did try to be nice, really he did, but I was still…I don't know…I panicked and I bit him. We had a bit of a fight and loads of things got knocked over._

'_And then suddenly you were there! After all that time of thinking about it and wanting you back and hating you and everything that Dr Southard had said, you were suddenly right in front of me. And then you spoke to me, just like to spoke to me before; all kind and wanting to help. I wanted so bad for it just to be like it was before, but I didn't know that you weren't going to try to…I was so confused; I remembered all he promises you made and all those times you comforted me and then I remembered what Dr Southard had said 'bout you._

'_When you touched me, even though it wasn't in a bad way and I didn't mean to, I suddenly got really scared of you and I screamed. I wanted to rum away from you. but you didn't get angry or try to make me do stuff like Father or Dr Southard would've done. Even though I hurt you, you still tried to fix me. I wanted so bad to tell that I'm sorry and everything what had happened, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. _

'_Then you started to ignore me completely, as though I wasn't there at all. And I could see you making friends with Dr Southard. It felt as though you'd gone away all over again, only this time I couldn't pretend that you missed me 'cause I could see you right in front of me, only you were looking right though me. He used to go on about that, when he'd come into my room. It was even worse than when he'd kiss me. _

' _I came into your room one night, after Dr Southard came to mine, just to see what would happen. Just so that I could be sure. I figured, if he was right, then it would be worth it if you would stop ignoring me. And, despite everything, I still felt safe with you. I was happy when you didn't do anything, so I started coming more, before Dr Southard went to my room _

'_Last night, when you turned the light on…I was so scared that you were going to make me do stuff or-or you was going to tell Dr Southard. I felt like I was going to be sick and even though you were acting nice to me…I still wasn't sure. And I thought you was still angry at me 'cause of what happened before with Father and I wanted to ask you why you stopped talking to me but I was scared that you would shout at me. I wanted to tell you what was happening to me and I was going to, really I was! But then He came in…and you sent me away…_

'_He was so angry when he took me back to my room. I hadn't never seen him like that. He kept yelling that I was a dirty little liar and if I ever spoke to you again he would kill me. He put a silencing spell on me then and took off my clothes. I-I tried to fight him but I couldn't. He was too strong. He did something to me…I dunno exactly what 'cause I closed my eyes. But it hurt, Sir. I haven't never hurt like that before…I thought I was going to break and I wanted to scream but I couldn't 'cause of the spell…there was blood after and he said something had actually broken but he fixed it with magic so that nobody would know…and nobody would believe me if I tried to tell. He said that I was his now, that I belonged to him._

'_It happened again…when you took me home. I thought everything was going to be okay, now that you knew. I thought you was going to stop him. But he came up and he knew that I'd told you. He said that it didn't matter anymore, he said that Father would send me away 'cause I was dirty. He said it would be worse now that I'd told 'cause Father wouldn't love me or want me in the house…_

"And he was right!" Draco wailed, repelling me suddenly from his mind. "After everything, he was right! Father doesn't want me anymore!"

I was very shaken; partly from what I had just witnessed and partly because the bond had been broken so suddenly. It took me a minute or two to gather my wits together and process all the information I had just received.

Everything was starting to make sense and link together. I could fully understand, now, Draco's behaviour towards William and me. I could see exactly how William had tricked both Lucius and myself into turning a blind eye to what was going on.

And…oh god! The worst thing that could have possibly happened _had_ happened. And, if Draco's magic hadn't suddenly kicked in…it would've happened twice.

My eyes drifted towards my little godson weeping, inconsolable, into my mother's dressing gown as she cuddled him. How would he ever be able to get over this? You read about children committing suicide after something like this has happened, not being able to live with the memory. Or even the parents killing themselves because they realise how badly they have failed their child.

'_I should've known…I have failed him…again.'_

Silently, I got unsteadily to my feet and took Draco's sobbing form from my mother. He immediately latched onto me- wrapping his arms around my neck and laying his head against my shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you for letting me do that," I whispered into his hair. An uncomfortable lump had risen into my throat, making it difficult to swallow. "You've been so brave."

But Draco was not to be comforted. Not this time. I knew from previous experience that Legilimensy could leave a person feeling very emotionally fragile, even at the best of times. And I could only imagine how completely shattered Draco was feeling, now that everything had been brought back to the surface.

"I think I'm going to take him upstairs," I said to my mother, who nodded understandingly.

"Your room's exactly how you left it. I haven't been in and moved anything around."

I gave her a small smile of gratitude, then started towards the door when her voice made me stop,

"Sev…"

"Yes?"

She hesitated, looking at the pitiful bundle in my arms, "Look after him, won't you?"

"Of course."

* * *

Draco refused to be put down when we had reached my room. He clung to me as though the world would end if he let go. His grip was surprisingly strong for one so small for his age and I had no choice but to sit on the edge of my bed and just cuddle him until he calmed down.

But, poor thing, he was absolutely convinced that his father had abandoned him and there was nothing I could say to convince him otherwise. No matter what I said, he just cried and cried and showed no signs of stopping.

"Oh Dragon," I murmured, resting my cheek against the crown of his head. "What can I do to help you? How can I make it stop hurting?"

"I-I want to go h-h-home!" Draco wept, frail body convulsing with tears. "I-I want m-m-my Daddy!"

* * *

A/N: Happy Christmas people!!!! Sorry about the exceptionally late update, but I hope the length makes up for it :-) Wow! Holidays! I love holidays Hope you all have a good one!

Love Lily

PS- Reviews makes LadyLily happy::Hint hint::


	22. Part Four 1

Unsurprisingly, Draco did not settle at all well that night. When, eventually, I did mange to get him to sleep, he was still fretful- tossing and turning and whimpering- and, of course, half an hour of that would wake him in a mess of damp sheets, crying out for Lucius.

I am ashamed to admit that I felt more than a little betrayed that it was not to me that Draco immediately thought of when this distressed. But, as they say, blood is thicker than water and, as tragic as it may seem, no matter how much Lucius belittled and mistreated his son, he would always come first and foremost in Draco's eyes.

And, at a simpler level, it had always been Lucius who was the most unwavering figure in Draco's life. Narcissa was prone to severe mood swings. William could change his entire personality in a flash and I…well, as well-intentioned as _I_ was, it was simply impractical for me to be there constantly and anyway, after these last few misunderstandings- all of which have ended tragically- I really couldn't ever expect Draco to rely on me fully.

Lucius, on the other hand, was The Proverbial Rock- unyielding, stubborn, ruthless…but solid, predictable and constant. I knew that Draco depended on being able to watch his father and read the slight changes in his demeanour in order to survive. Draco's teachers would, in the future, comment on how intently Draco would watch them, but when noticing something as small as the twitch of an eyebrow could save you from being slapped across the face it was no wonder that he quickly developed the habit..

It was a blessing, or sorts, that a man with as fierce a temper as Lucius Malfoy was as predictable as he was, otherwise I'm not sure that Draco would've been able to cope at all.

I barely slept at all that night. For one thing, there was little point leaving Draco alone in my room as he would only panic when he awoke again and for another, I was absolutely dreading having to explain to Lucius exactly what Draco had revealed to me. How the hell do you go about telling a parent that their child has been raped? And right under their nose too?

And it wasn't as though Lucius was the most reasonable of people when upset…why was it always me who had to be the bearer of bad news?

* * *

"You look like death," my mother observed from the kitchen table as I sloped in, my feet dragging behind me. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"Now, what gave you that impression?" I muttered, pulling a chair out and slumping down in it. "I've never slept better…"

A cup of _very_ black coffee was set firmly down in front of me, with the order to "Drink. I dislike you immensely when you're in this sort of mood."

"I learnt it from you," I retorted petulantly, taking a sip of the bitter liquid and pulling a face. "Haven't you any sugar to put in this? It's vile!"

The sugar bowl was, if possible, set down even harder an was accompanied by a very loud sigh which indicated that my mother certainly did not approve of sugar in coffee.

"How's the boy?"

I shook my head and shrugged helplessly, "I really don't know. He's sleeping now, but I've no idea how he's going to be when he wakes up. Legilimensy did not suit him well at all…"

"You did what had to be done," my mother said gently, sensing my underlying guilt at forcing Draco to remember things that were not meant to be remembered. "When a man is bitten by a snake, the poison must be removed, no matter how painful it is at the time. The consequences of not doing so would be deadly. Why do you always have to take everything so personally? You did the right thing, so what is the problem?"

Before I had time to even consider my answer to such a ridiculous question, my father barged in looking particularly outraged,

"Why," he demanded, looked angrily at my mother, "is there a small boy upstairs?"

She met him squarely in the eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "He belongs to Severus," she explained patiently. My father's black eyes flicked to me and I saw his jaw clench even tighter. "I told him they could both stay here for a while."

"Oh yes? And how long is _that_ going to be for?" We glared at one another levelly. We were the same height, give or take an inch and tension crackled between us like electricity.

"Oh stop it both of you!" said my mother, coming between us. She barely came up to our noses, but was still a formidable presence when crossed. As they say- the strongest things come in small packages…take washing detergent for example. "Severus," she fixed me with a look. "You have a very unsettled looking Mr Malfoy in the living room and I suggest you go sort him out-"

"Lucius is here?" I exclaimed, feeling more than a little unsettled myself. "Why didn't you tell me? How long has he been here?"

At the same time, my father's expression grew even more livid than it had been previously and he started spluttering, "No no no! I am _not_ having another wizard in my house! I-I-I forbid it! Get rid of him at once! Eileen are you listening to me?"

"Shut your mouth. _Silencio_!"

I smiled appreciatively at my mother, who smirked and lovingly fingered her wand. Ever since I had started at Hogwarts, she had decided she wasn't going to stand for anymore nonsense from her husband and had taken control of her life using my father's weaknesses to her advantage like any half-decent Slytherin. Personally, I thought she had done a tremendous job.

"Go now," she said, raising her chin. "Sort your friend out."

* * *

Lucius did, indeed, seem to be in a pretty bad way; he was slumped forward, with his head resting in his hands. His face was tired and gaunt and there was not even an illusion of confidence.

I approached him somewhat warily- I wasn't entirely sure how a Malfoy, particularly _this_ Malfoy, was going to behave when something this…intense had happened. From my rather extensive experience of the creatures commonly known as Pure-bloods, they are highly dangerous when provoked and even more so when forced into situations that are not in their control.

Lucius raised his head slowly as he became aware of my presence. He eyed me darkly- half angry, half exhausted- then sat back in his chair. "How is he?" he asked quietly, after a long pause.

I regarded him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not to answer truthfully, but the pained expression on the elder Malfoy's face told me that lies- even white lies- would only exacerbate things.

"Not good," I told him, almost apologetically. "Not good at all. He just cries and cries and calls for you…he's sleeping now, but it is not a peaceful sleep. He won't be comforted by anyone except you."

I watched Lucius closely, wondering what his reaction will be to this piece of information. But, apart from a slight twitch of one eyebrow, he made no indication that he'd even heard what I had said.

"How are you?" I asked as gently as I could without being condescending.

Lucius' grey eyes flicked sharply to mine, then lowered them and shrugged. "Fine. Don't look at me like that! I am fine!"

"You blatantly aren't," I snapped. "And you need to be. Are you listening to me, Lucius? You _need_ to be fine!"

Lucius stared at me, obviously taken aback by the tone of my voice. But now was not the time to tip-toe around or be unnecessarily respectful. Lucius had to pull himself together and if he couldn't manage to do it himself, then I'd have to make him.

"You have a little boy upstairs," I continued firmly, pointing to emphasize my words, "who has had terrible things happen to him, but all that is going through is already bewildered mind is that his daddy doesn't want him anymore."

Making a jerky movement with his neck, Lucius turned his head away from me and said through gritted teeth. "I did what I had to do. If I had kept him there…you would have still blamed me!" Grey eyes flashed up, suddenly furious, "I just can't get it right can I? Even when I'm trying, you're still there, _judging_ me and _criticizing_ me! Well who made you such an authority?" He was shouting now, hands clenched into fists by his side. "I suppose you think it's _my_ fault that William Southard did what he did, don't you? **Don't you?**"

I stared at the angry, distraught man before me, then dropped my gaze. Truth be told, I _did_ hold him responsible for Draco vulnerability. But for all his faults, I knew that Lucius would never tolerate somebody hurting Draco. It had always been one rule for him and another for everyone else…and this was no exception.

I was silent for too long, however, which the older man instantly interpreted as a criticism.

"You have _absolutely _no idea," yelled Lucius, the corners of his eyes "how much I try! You think I don't care! You think I'd just sit back and allow somebody to… do _that_ to my boy!" His voice began to crack and he turned sharply away from me, struggling to retain control of himself.

"And you know what the worst thing is?" There was no anger anymore, just pain. "The worst thing is you're right! You're _completely_ right! It _is_ my fault!"

"Lucius, I didn't mean-" But he was completely oblivious of my presence.

"I _should've_ noticed…it should've been so _obvious_ what was going on…if only I had paid him more attention! I should've listened to him when he tried to talk to me!" Lucius sat down heavily on the settee on which he had previously been seated and hid his face in his hands. Curiously enough, he bore a striking resemblance to Draco when distressed and I would not have been surprised if Lucius had started to suck his thumb. But, of course, he didn't.

"What have I done?" he moaned into his palms. "What the hell have I done to him?"

I lowered myself into the chair opposite and spoke carefully, "It is _not_ your fault. You did _not_ allow that to happen to Draco, therefore you are not to blame. However," Lucius eyed me warily. "You have _got_ to get past this and sort yourself out because if this how _you're_ feeling, then just imagine how terribly this is effecting Draco! He needs you to be in control, or at least pretend to be." My tone was taking on an almost pleading edge to it. Never had I imagined that I would be telling a Malfoy to take control.

"You ought to have heard him last night," I continued with a wry smile. "It was not me he wanted, or Narcissa, it was _you_. Merlin knows why, you've given him little enough reason, but you are the only person he wants right now."

"No."

I frowned, not understanding. "No what?"

"I can't see Draco."

"I don't understand you."

"I don't want to see him, Severus. I'm not ready. He has to stay here. I can't handle him right now."

Anger flared up in me, all patience and pity evaporating. "No! You are _not _doing this to me again! Have you not been listening to a word I have said? _Your son __**needs**__you_! I am not going to let you just discard him anymore, _especially_ now! You're his father for god sake, you need to face up to your responsibilities and stop expecting me to be there to pick up the pieces when _you_ mess up!"

I felt like screaming with frustration; what would it take to make this stupid, self-obsessed imbecile realise that he had a small boy who was teetering on the edge of destruction and if he didn't accept responsibility, that boy was going to fall and never recover.

"For once, this is not about you, so stop being so _bloody_ selfish and take Draco back home to where he needs to be!"

"I can't do it," Lucius whined. "You _know_ I can't do it! You know I have a short temper and at the moment…after last night…what if I just end up losing it and I hurt him seriously? You know how to look after him properly, he trusts you."

I have to admit I was impressed. To actually be able to recognise his faults was a massive change for Lucius and, truthfully, it was that Draco be kept away from the manor- away from the place where _it_ happened and away from his father's temper. But equally, Draco had to have the reassurance that he was still wanted and being forced to stay away from his home and his parents was not going to help that in the slightest.

Lucius rose suddenly, with the declaration of, "I'd better be going. Narcissa will be wondering where I am."

A lie if ever I heard one.

There was no point trying to stop him, I had learnt in my early years at Hogwarts that when a Malfoy's mind is made up, charging hippogriffs will not deter them.

Lucius thanked my mother for her hospitality at the door and was about to make his way down the path when,

"Father!"

We all turned to see Draco at the top of the staircase- one small hand clutching at the banister. The suddenly he had sped down the stairs and had attached himself to Lucius' middle. "I _knew_ you'd come back!"

"Let go, Draco," said the older Malfoy with strained patience, trying to prise his son off him. "I said, let go!"

Draco backed off; delirious relief replaced suddenly with a frown. "But…but you've come to take me home, haven't you?"

A pained expression shadowed across Lucius' eyes. "I think it best," he said, "if you were to stay here for a while."

Draco's eyes widened with horror and he flung himself at his father with a cry, "No! Take me with you! You _have_ to take me with you! Please Father don't leave me!"

"You are _staying_ here!"

"No!"

My mother stepped forward and tried to coax the distraught child away, but he only wanted Lucius and Lucius was the only person who didn't want him.

"Take me home!"

"_Do not disobey me_!"

The danger was there before I could even process what was happening; Lucius' hand lashed out and collided sharply with Draco's cheek, knocking him to the ground. Mother drew her wand in a flash, but Lucius had already backed away from the door, his eyes fixed upon me.

'_I told you,'_ they said. _'That was as much for you as it was for him.'_

"I'll be in touch," he said curtly before turning on his heel and apparating away in a billow of black robes.

* * *

A/N: I'm sooooorrrrryyyyy!!!! My slackness is inexcusable and you all my sincerest apologies...damn the GCSEs!!!! But at least I have 2 extra months summer holidays ;) I love being a year eleven...

Lily xxxx

oh yes, reviews are appreciated ::hinthint::


	23. Part Four 2

The whole atmosphere was taut to the point of breaking after Lucius had gone. Nobody quite knew where we were supposed to be going now; my mute father had appeared around the doorframe, looking completely bewildered and my mother's eyes had not moved from the spot where Lucius had been just a minute ago.

Draco was still slumped against the wall where he had fallen- glassy eyed and tense. His lips were pressed tightly together and his blue-grey eyes were transfixed on the same spot as my mother's were.

There was no point saying anything to him, nothing would make any sense to him when he was in this state of mind. Instead, I slid down the wall to sit a few feet away from him. My mother, taking the hint, went out to buy milk and my father went to sulk in the living room.

We sat there in silence for Merlin knows how long, my legs crossed uncomfortably beneath me, resting my head against the wall.

It was always going to be like this, wasn't it? Every time Lucius' temper would get the better of him, Draco would end up a little more broken and every time it would be me who'd have to try and fix him.

But the worst thing was that no matter what Lucius did, no matter how badly he hurt him, Draco would always convince himself that it wasn't his father's fault, that he _didn't_ mean it. And so, it would always sting twice as much when it happened again.

To be honest, though, even I had expected just a slight change in Lucius' attitude towards his son, even if it was only compassion and sympathy for what had happened. But habits are hard to change, especially for those as stubborn as Lucius, and it was clear that the _thought_ was there…but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

"Sir?" Draco had shuffled over, watching me anxiously.

"Hey." I smiled a little and put my arm around him. I felt Draco relax instantly and a small arm snaked around my middle.

"I'm sorry about your father," I told him earnestly, squeezing his shoulder.

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have annoyed him…I just got upset."

"Maybe it _is_ better if you stay away from the Manor for a while. Just until everyone sorts themselves out."

I felt Draco sigh. "I s'pose so… what's happened to Dr Southard?"

'_Damn! That's what I wanted to ask Lucius!'_

"I'm not sure," I said slowly. At my uncertainty Draco's head jerked up in alarm.

"He's not going to be there, is he? When I get home, I mean. Father wouldn't let him…not now…" Draco's eyes were becoming glassy again and there same terror that had haunted his features yesterday was gradually returning.

"Draco? Draco listen to me," I implored desperately. "You are _never_ going to see that man again! You never even have to think about him. It's over. Finished."

"But I can't help thinking about it," he whispered, slumping back against the wall. "Everything he said to me…it all keeps going 'round and 'round in my head. And…and it still hurts what he done. I can still feel it hurting." Draco hunched his shoulders, expression pained and miserable. The, quietly without looking up, "What's gonna happen to me, Sir?"

"Happen?" I repeated with a frown. "What do you mean?"

Draco fidgeted agitatedly. "I mean, I did bad, didn't I? It was…it was _my_ fault Dr Southard did what he did 'cause…'cause I let him and that was a bad thing to do, wasn't it? I shouldn't have let him. I-I should've said no."

Draco was no longer speaking to me. I mean, he was talking, but somewhere along the line, he had slipped into a sort of trance; his eyes became vague and his voice had a distance to it that sounded like it had when I had used Legilimensy.

"…something bad's gonna happen. He said bad things would happen if I told and he was right about father, so why shouldn't he be right about that too? What if Father believes him over me and lets him stay? What if he's still there? What if…what if Father finds out that I let him do it and makes him stay to punish me? Or-or what if…what if Father…"

But the sentence was never completed. Thank god! The second that horrific notion entered his head, Draco turned completely white and quickly struggled to stand with the mumbled declaration of, "I'm gonna be sick…"

* * *

It has always amazed me how people are able to vomit multiple times in a row. You wouldn't have thought, especially of children, that a body could hold that much... 

Draco was physically attached to the toilet bowl for a full twenty minutes, clinging on with as much strength as he could muster. Unsurprisingly, he soon collapsed in a soggy, shivering mass, unable to do much more than just gasp for breath and groaning.

I dropped to my knees and eased him slowly into a sitting position. Draco's pale face was shiny with sweat, although his forehead was cold and clammy. Raising his head wearily, he pulled a face and tried to smile.

I sighed with relief, "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, a bit," said Draco weakly then grimaced as a wave of nausea passed through him and lunged for the toilet again.

I heard the front door bang shut, signalling the return of my mother. She paused as she passed by the bathroom. "Fresh air," she said casually, her dark eyes scrutinising me, as though to say _'Have you no common sense?'_ "is the best cure for sickness. Go for a walk." Then she stalked off without a backward glance.

I sighed again with more feeling, "Come no Draco, we have to go out."

"I can't. I haven't any clothes, only my pyjamas and shoes. I can't go outside in my pyjamas!" The outrage is Draco's voice told me he was deadly serious about that.

"What if," I said thoughtfully. "What if I leant you something to wear over the top? Would that be okay?"

"Something of yours?" Draco's lips twitched into an amused smile at the prospect. "I'd like that."

* * *

My room, as Mother had said, was exactly how I had left it; a half-melted candle stood on a cracked saucer besides three dirty mugs. Old clothes that I had long since grown out of were draped across a chair that acted as a wardrobe and the same air of misery filled the small room like a gas, making it stifling to be in there. 

Usually, when I came home, I stayed in the box room we used when there were guests (which was rarely.) I know that it sounds clichéd, but there were too many ghosts in my bedroom and I'm not sure that I had been in there for more than a minute or two at a time since I finished school.

I sat uneasily down my bed, the springs in the mattress whining beneath me and allowed my eyes to drift around, taking in every crack in the plaster, every stain in the carpet…there was absolutely no desire to rifle through any of my old possessions or to even associate myself with anything in this hovel.

I have never understood the point of remembering things that happened years ago, especially negative things. It doesn't do any good, you can't change anything all it seems to do, is cause upset completely unnecessarily that could have been avoided.

After a lot of careful deliberation, Draco decided he wanted to wear my coat that was, at least, seven sizes to big for him; the sleeves had to rolled up twice and it trailed behind him like and overlong cape. All in all, he did look slightly ridiculous, but refused to be talked out of it.

* * *

The park on the other side of the river was deserted. Summer wind moved the roundabout and seesaw as though there were invisible children playing there. It was quite eerie, actually when you thought about it… 

We sat on the swings and I watched Draco as he swung higher and high until the chins were almost parallel to the top, eyes closed and leaning as far back, then as far forward as he dared without falling off.

I savoured this image, for it was rare that Draco was able to completely free himself from all concerns and fears and was able to simply act like the eight-year-old he was- happy and careless with no responsibilities… Suddenly, I was glad that Lucius had done what he had done (although, as ever, he could have handled it a lot better) because it meant that Draco would be able to just forget without A) having to be in the house, which in itself was a reminder, and B) it meant he wouldn't have the added worry of acting like a perfect little pureblood for his father.

"I'm gonna jump!" Draco suddenly shrieked from high above my head, grinning down on me. "I'm a dragon and I'm gonna fly!"

Thank goodness his magic had finally shown up, was all I could think.

As the swing went up, Draco leaned right forwards then let go, soaring high over the playground to land with a bump on the dusty ground. His hands were smeared with dirt and his hair was in disarray but, otherwise, he was completely unharmed.

"Did you see me fly?" Draco grinned, skipping back to the swings, dusty hands plunged into the coat pockets. "Did you see what I did?"

I smiled, pleased to see him so happy. "Yes, I saw you. I'm surprised you didn't sprout wings and fly off."

This set him off into a fit of giggles. "That's silly! People don't have wings! Else they wouldn't have brooms would they?"

There was no arguing with that level of logic.

"What's this?" Suddenly, my godson pulled a creased envelope out of one of the pockets and regarded it curiously. "Sir?"

My heart pounded in my ears, suddenly apprehensive. It dawned on me that I hadn't worn that coat since I was eleven and had started at Hogwarts…I held out my hand for whatever it was.

_Mr S. Snape _

_The room with the damp patch_

_5 Spinner's End_

_Suffolk_

It said in emerald-green ink. My letter of acceptance from Hogwarts. I smoothed out the creases then carefully shook out its contents into my lap; tiny fragments of torn parchment drifted out of the envelope, along with a Polaroid photograph of a ten-year-old version of myself standing next to a pretty red-haired girl. Lily Evans.

I remember the day that photo was taken; It had been her birthday. She had invited me to her party, but I had hastily declined despite her begging. I didn't react well to people, especially people of my own age. So, we had had a sort of private party, just the two of us, with all the left over cake and Lily presented the camera that her parents had given her.

"_Isn't it gorgeous?"_ she had laughed, her eyes mirroring her joy as she held it up. _"Smile Sev!"_

We used up all the film she had been given, trying to snap each other without the other noticing. It was I who had found the button labelled 'Delay'

"_You stand over there,"_ I had instructed, setting the camera up on the climbing frame. _"Now wait for a second…"_ We waited, our breath held, and cheered when, finally, it flashed.

A couple of days later, I found the photograph pushed through our letter box, with a message scrawled on the back-

_Dear Severus,_

_I had the best part of my birthday with and I am so pleased you worked out how to use the camera!!!!!!!!_

_Lots and lots and lots of love, Lily_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

A terrible pang of loss swiftly overcame me that I struggled to conceal from Draco, who was watching me inquisitively.

He reached out to take the picture from me. "Is this you?" he asked. "Who's she?" His fingertips brushed absently over her glossy face as he spoke.

"A girl I once knew," I said, scraping my heels along the ground. "We were friends for a time."

"Oh," Draco passed it back to me and took up the other swing again. "What happened?"

"We both grew up," I answered somewhat bitterly. "She didn't like my friends and I detested her boyfriend." _'Arrogant bastard!'_ "It just didn't work out."

"Sorry."

"Hmmph…it's just what happens. Life is never fair, Draco, especially when it comes to friends." Okay, so I was drowning in self-pity, but I think it was justified. Not that Draco was paying any attention whatsoever.

"Right. Watch me fly again!"

* * *

Bonjour et bienvenue a le chapter nouveu Garr I can't speak french lol! Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed and I know there are alot of people who haven't so if you are guilty of such a heinous crime, redeem yourselves by reviewing now s'il vous plais. 

Merci et Je t'aime! Lily xxx

Oh, and if Louise T is reading, please message me :D


	24. Part Four 3

By the time we had returned home

By the time we had returned home. The sun was setting and Draco was utterly filthy. His normally flawless hair was now sticking up at odd places and there were smears of dust across his face from where he had rubbed his hands across it. But he was happy and that is what mattered.

I must say, I was relieved that Draco had perked up so quickly. I had been concerned that he would become depressed or self-destructive, but, touch wood, we had been lucky so far.

* * *

As unkempt as the house generally was, my mother was an extremely house-proud woman and, as such, Draco was whisked straight upstairs to have a bath within seconds of getting in. I was glad that they seemed to get along reasonably well although, as I have said before, I was a little envious that this kind of attention had not been directed towards me as a boy, but this was exactly what Draco needed right now and I wasn't going to deny him that.

Having removed my own shoes in the hall, I traipsed into the living room where my father was reading the paper. He ignored me completely as I sat down and I knew that it was completely futile to even attempt a conversation . we had absolutely _nothing_ in common; I was everything he most hated and he was everything I despised. It was still exceedingly difficult for me to accept that we were, in fact, related.

"So," said my father suddenly, not looking up. "How much are we getting from this Mr Malfoy?"

I raised an eyebrow incredulously. "_What_ are you on about?"

He sighed loudly, as though I was being purposefully unhelpful, "I mean, I hope he isn't expecting us to do this free of charge, like. Food and heating, for one, cost money, you know, and we aren't exactly millionaires."

Considering the amount of sleep I hadn't had the previous night, my temper was short and had been stretched far too much. "Well, maybe," I snarled, "if you weren't so lazy and unpleasant, you'd be able to get a half-decent job and then you wouldn't have this problem, would you?"

"How dare you speak to me like that in my own house!" my father yelled predictably. God knows I'd heard _that_ one often enough… "Unless I receive a considerable amount of compensation for my trouble," he continued furiously. "I want you _and_ the boy out!"

"I think mum will have something to say about that," I sneered, feeling nothing but contempt for the man before me. It was a cheap shot, I know, but my mother was a formidable opponent and the threat was very much a real one. "What are _you_ going to do about it, anyway?" I pulled my wand out from the inside of my jacket and held it up as though to admire it.

A flicker of apprehension crossed my father's dark face. "Bloody wizards," he muttered with feeling, sitting back down and glaring at me. "Think you're so _bloody_ superior, don't you?"

"Next to you, that isn't hard," I retorted, looking down my nose.

Then suddenly, "No! Stop it!"

Without hardly registering it, I raced straight up the stairs (almost tripping and falling back down them in my haste) to see my mother trying to coax a panicky looking Draco towards her. With every step forward she took, my godson stumbled back two, his arms wrapped protectively around his body as he backed against the wall. Never for a second did his eyes, wide with fear, leave her face.

"Come on love," my mother murmured gently. "You need to get in the bath. You can't stay in them clothes forever."

"Go away," said Draco weakly, his voice wavering as he shied away like a frightened colt. "Please don't…"

Sighing deeply, my mother ran a hand fretfully though her hair and turned towards me. "What do I do?" she asked, her voice bewildered and worried. "Severus, do something!"

* * *

"So what's going on, Dragon?"

Draco eyed my warily, biting his thumb so hard I wouldn't have been surprised if it had come clean off.

"What's going on?" I asked again. No answer. Eyes averted. "Dragon? Do you know who I am?"

An odd question, I know, but it was important to understand what state of mind he was in, as it could change dramatically in a second.

"Sir," Draco whispered although this did not seem to make him feel any better. On the contrary, in fact, he began to fidget uneasily, looking at the floor, over my shoulder but never at me.

"You won't have a bath," I stated, crossing my arms across my chest in mock austerity. "Would you mind telling me why?"

A sharp breath was, forehead creased and all fidgeting stopped. "I-I don't…I can't…" Draco's eyes, bright with anxiety, flashed up; searching for the hidden agenda behind my words.

What was it going to take to make him see that not everybody was out there to hurt him? How long would it be before the poison stopped seeping though his confused, distorted mind and allowed him to take what little control he had had back?

"Do you think," I leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "that I would let someone, _anyone_, hurt you in that way again? Do you really believe that I would do that?"

Almost reluctantly, Draco shook his head and then smiled a smile that only people who are hurting smile. But it was a smile nonetheless and I appreciated the effort.

"Try again for me," I implored, taking his small hands in my own. "And for my mother. She wants to help you too."

"You mean take my clothes off?" Draco asked, aghast.

Judging by his reaction I thought it best to tread carefully, although it would do neither of us any good if I were to simply let Draco get his way. He _had_ to learn to get over this and _not_ let it dominate him.

"Yes," I replied calmly. "You cannot have a bath in your clothes. It simply isn't practical."

"No I don't want to," said Draco instantly. "Don't make me."

"Draco, you are having a bath, whether you like it or not. I'm sorry but that's the way it's going to be."

My godson stared at me as though I had suddenly grown antlers. Guilt crept up into my throat, but I forced it back down.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I just need you to co-operate with me," I had to keep talking. I had to keep him focused on me as slowly I unbuttoned his pyjama top. "Don't be scared, Dragon. Please don't be scared of me. I know that you're hurting and you're confused right now, but don't let it control you. I know that you are brave and strong and you can get though this."

Draco's face twitched and I felt his heart beat start to race. "Stop it," he begged, pulling weakly at my hands. "Please, Sir, stop it. STOP IT!"

But I held him fast, wrapping my arms tightly around his skinny body to stop him from struggling. My mother came quickly and knelt to help.

"I know it's scary," I said as my mother's delicate fingers slipped the shirt from Draco's shoulders. "But you have to trust us. You have to believe that we aren't going to hurt you like Dr Southard did. He was sick, Dragon, and what he did was wrong but not everyone is like that. I promise."

"It hurts!" Draco wailed, twisting away from my mother's hands.

"I know." Gradually, I loosened my hold and ran my fingers through his hair. "But it will stop soon. Ssh ssh…"

"Here," my mother, having fetched a towel, bent down and wrapped the distressed boy in it. Then with a smile, she said to him, "I have some chocolate for you when you come down again."

Unfortunately, as wonderful as chocolate was, it was little consolation and Draco couldn't even acknowledge that he had heard her; he just sat passively in her arms, eyes clamped shut as big tears rolled steadily down his cheeks. It would take a while before he would forgive me for this, but it had to be done and, in this case, the end justified the means.

* * *

There were two letters propped up on the table when I sat down in the kitchen which an excessively large mug of tea and both were addressed to me.

'_How exciting,'_ I remember thinking. _'I never get letters…'_

One bore that scarlet wax seal of Hogwarts and the other the silver Malfoy crest. I chose to open Lucius' first as I have always believed it best to do the more unpleasant task first and get them over with. And, as I predicted, it was not good news-

_Severus,_

_I am not going to apologise for what I said to you or for what I did to Draco. I told you that I can't handle him at the moment but you wouldn't listen to me. I do hope that he is okay though and I want you to let him know that his mother and I are thinking of him. I have sent enough clothes and such for a week and if you need anything else, just owl me._

_I will tell you now that William Southard has been disposed of. It is irrelevant how, but the whole thing ends there. Neither the name nor the deed is ever to be spoken of again, especially to Draco. It never happened. If there are consequences, and by that I mean serious consequences and not just minor problems, than you will deal with them. Everything is to go back to how it was before and it is imperative that you make Draco aware of that. I am not having him coming home with false ideas that things are going to change. He must be kept in reality._

_You are welcome at the Manor anytime however there are terms which must be observed; you will__** not **__interfere in Draco's upbringing, you will __**not**__ criticize my parenting methods and you will not, under __**any**__ circumstances, undermine my authority as Draco's father. Your role is purely that of godfather and you have to respect that __**I**__ am the predominant figure in Draco's life. None of these points are up for discussion._

_Lucius Malfoy. _

"Stupid, arrogant…"

It took all my self-control not to shred that damnable message into a thousand minuscule pieces. Instead, I just stared at it for a while, my jaw clenched as I gripped the parchment tightly in both hands.

This was just so _bloody_ typical of him!

'_Oh, it doesn't matter that our only son and heir to the Malfoy legacy is emotionally crippled and was raped right under our extremely large noses. If we sweep it under our antique carpet that costs billions of galleons, it's just like it never happened!'_

Bloody Malfoys with their bloody…I don't know whats, but bloody something!

"I'm going out!" I yelled up the stairs as I lunged for my coat. No one gave any sign that they had noticed. Surprise surprise…Grabbing the letter, I stuffed it into my pocket and apparated furiously to their Manor to give Mr Malfoy a _very_ large piece of my mind.

* * *

"He won't see you, you know," chirped Narcissa as we walked along on of the many extensive corridors. "He's sulking in his study and you know what he's like when he's in _that_ kind of mood."

Indeed I did. All too well, in fact.

"And how are you Severus?" she asked conversationally as though it was a social visit.

"Not bad," I replied with a shrug. "I have been better, but I suppose things could always be worse."

"Yes…" Narcissa nodded in agreement. "I suppose so. Things usually aren't as bad as we perceive them but then again, it never does any good to under play something."

"Try telling your husband that."

Eventually, we reached Lucius' study- a room of mystery- and I banged on the door. Narcissa fell back looking anxious.

"Go away!" came Lucius' voice through the wood. "I'm not seeing anyone!"

"If I have to bash down this door, I bloody well will," I threatened sincerely.

"And if you break the door I'll have you arrested for criminal damage!"

"Just leave him, Sev," said Narcissa quietly, touching me on the shoulder. "It'll just exacerbate things if you annoy him."

Giving the door one last death-glare, I stepped away. "How on earth can you live with him?"

"Oh, it's quite easy really," she replied with a smile. "I leave him alone and he leaves me alone. It suits me fine."

"What about Draco?"

She frowned slightly. "_What_ about Draco?"

I paused, not wanting it to be taken as a criticism but at the same time needing to know. "Do you not care? Do you not care that your little boy is being beaten by his father right under your nose? Do you not care that he isn't allowed to have proper medical care because your husband doesn't want to be judged? Are you okay with that?"

Narcissa thought about this carefully then asked curiously, "Do I have an alternative option rather than be okay with it?" As though I could answer that.

"I love my baby," she continued, her delicate features suddenly troubled. "But Lucius is much better at being a parent than I am. He would do anything for Draco. He just…he's just not very good at being affectionate and Draco irritates him sometimes."

"And that condones what he does?"

"Yup," The smile was back and she laughed. "Draco can't help being irritating because he's only eight and Lucius can't control his temper so it's nobody's fault, so that condones it!" she finished triumphantly.

I couldn't help but smile at her naivety; despite how blatantly wrong she was, it was very endearing.

"I suppose I'd better be getting back now…" I looked around trying to remember how I'd got from the front door to here. Was it left or right?

"Shall I walk you back?" Narcissa said sympathetically as she noticed my bewilderment. "I need to ask you something anyway."

'_Oh dear…'_

"And what might that be?" I asked, trying not to sound too worried as we made our way through the labyrinth, which was the Malfoy home.

"Well, the thing is…and I know Lucius thinks the same but he's entirely too proud to admit it…you are obviously aware that all this fuss with William Southard means that he isn't here anymore?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "I was aware of that fact."

"So _that_ means we don't currently have a tutor for Draco and what with Durmstrang sending out examinations to children wishing to attend…it really is of the utmost importance that Draco has someone reliable who he can co-operate with…"

I stopped in my tracks, knowing _exactly_ where she was going with this. "No way. No no no no NO!"

"Oh _please_ Sev!" She was practically begging now. "Do it for Draco."

"Don't blackmail me, Narcissa," I warned her. "As tempting this offer may be I will have to decline. There's no way I'm going to be employed by your insufferable husband again. Not _even_ for Draco! Anyway, I've already applied for a couple of jobs."

Narcissa Malfoy looked unimpressed. "And have you got any of these 'jobs'?" she asked snidely. "Or are you still waiting? And what about money? You know you'd be paid twice as much here as anywhere else."

"Only because of the serious risks to my sanity," I snapped back. "No, Narcissa, that's my final answer!"

I suddenly remembered which way lead out so, quick, I bid Lady Malfoy farewell and walked briskly away.

I was _not_ going to give in to _them_ anymore. It was about time I started living for myself. If I was somebody else, I probably would have skipped out the door…but I wasn't.

* * *

Hallo chaps :) Hope you liked the chapter Considering it's my birthday next week and considering you all love me (hee hee) please review and I shall give you some of my cake which my lovely gran is making!! Eeeeek! I feel old :P

Love Lily xxxxx


	25. Part Four 4

Draco was sleeping deeply by the time I got back; he was curled up between my parents, blonde head resting in my mother's lap

Draco was sleeping deeply by the time I got back; he was curled up between my parents, blonde head resting in my mother's lap as my father stared fixedly at the television on which a woman was, effectively, miming the day's news.

I hovered in the doorway, debating whether or not I should disturb this peaceful scene. But, just as I was about to turn away, my mother twisted her head around and motioned for me to wait.

"Where did you go?" she asked, pulling me away from the living room by my sleeve.

"I got a letter from Lucius Malfoy, so I went to see him. I did explain that," I said, a little irately. "But, as eve, no one paid me the _slightest_ bit of attention…"

"Oh don't moan, Severus," my mother cut me off sharply, giving me one of her looks. She moved around the small wooden table which was placed in the exact middle of the kitchen and fingered the envelope in which my other, forgotten, letter was. "So, what has _he_ got to say for himself?" she asked, eyes suddenly dark with an edge of danger. Merlin help Lucius if he ever came across _her _on a dark night!

"Not a lot," I replied. "He was sulking in his study and refused to talk to me. Did you find the clothes for Draco that I had left on the table."

"Yes. Do we know how long Draco will be staying with us for?"

"I think about a week," I said, removing the crumpled letter from my pocket and checking it. "Yes, a week. Just long enough for Lucius to sort his head out."

My mother pursed her lips, looking annoyed.

"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. It looked like she had a lot she wanted to say and I knew, from experience, that if she didn't get it off her chest quickly, she would suddenly explode. And that would _not_ be pleasant for anyone who happened to be in the vicinity at the time.

"I think we should keep him."

My eyebrow travelled, if possible, even further up. "What?" I said again, convinced that I had misheard her.

"I don't feel comfortable with sending him home," she admitted, drawing out a chair and sitting down. "I mean…I don't know whether you know, but there are bruises on Draco's back and it looks to me like somebody's been beating that child. When I asked him about it, he refused to answer."

My mother looked at me, waiting for my reaction as if she expected the news to be new to me. I felt suddenly guilty; even though there was absolutely nothing that I could do to prevent it. I felt that _I_ was as much to blame as Lucius was. But that probably had something to do with the fact that my mother was now glaring at me as though she dearly wished to throttle me.

"You knew about it, didn't you?" She gave a short, humourless laugh. "Of course you did- you were there for three years- how could you not?"

I looked down at my hands. "There's nothing I can do. Lucius refuses to listen to anybody. Don't look at me like that!" I snapped. "I do my best for Draco, even if that isn't enough, I still do my best! You don't know! You aren't there!" The volume of my voice rose as I got more and more worked up. Why was she _always_ judging me? _Why was it always my fault_! "Anyway, since when did _you_ become all caring and motherly because I can't _ever_ remember you defending _me_ this way!"

My mother's eyes flashed. "So, you think that I shouldn't care about Draco? You think that I ought to send him back home to where he is in _danger_, just because I didn't defend you as much as I could've when you were little?"

I wavered; she was repeating exactly what I had been thinking, but coming from her, it sounded different.

" '_Could've'_?" I repeated furiously. " 'You didn't defend me as much as you _could've_'? You didn't even try! The only reason you are trying so hard for Draco, is because you feel guilty for being such a _crap_ mother!"

If my mother had been angry before…well, let's just say that, had we been in a cartoon, smoke would now be billowing from her ears.

But, thankfully for me, before she could bite back, a little voice spoke up sleepily, "Sir, why're you yelling?"

My mother shut her mouth and walked stiffly over to the sink, turning her back on me.

Gathering myself together and forcing down my animosity, I greeted my godson. "Hey Dragon." Draco smiled tiredly and came over to sit on me. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," he said, snuggling up to me. "But I woke up."

"I can see that."

"You went to see Father," Draco stated, playing absently with one of my hands. " 'Cause you got a letter from him."

"Mmm…" _'Oh god,'_ I thought. _'I'm going to have to talk to him about that…explain that absolutely nothing is going to change…'_

"What did he say?" asked Draco, looking up at me. "Did he say when I'll be allowed to come home?"

"Not for a while yet," I told him. "He's still quite upset with what happened."

Draco frowned, not understanding. "But nothing happened to him. Why's he upset?"

"I don't know Dragon," I sighed. "You know what he can be like."

"Yeah…" Draco reached over the table and picked up the envelope that I hadn't opened yet and inspected it; carefully reading the front and then turning it over to trace the wax seal with his fingers. "Draco dormiens nuquam titillandus…" he murmured, squinting to read the words. "Draco…that's me!" he grinned up at me. "It's got my name on it!"

"Do you know what it means?" I asked, taking the envelope from him. Draco shook his head. "It means 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'"

As though this was the funniest thing this side of sliced-bread, Draco burst into a spasm of giggles, which promptly turned into a coughing fit.

"Why does it say that?" he asked between gasps for breath.

"It's the motto for Hogwarts."

Draco's eyes widened. "You got a letter from _Hogwarts_?" he breathed as though it was the most amazing thing he had ever heard. "Why're they writing to you? I thought only kids got letters?"

"Well, how do you think the teachers find out that they're teachers?"

Draco thought about this _very_ carefully. "Someone…tells them?"

"How? How do they tell them?"

"With a letter!" Draco said triumphantly. "So…so that means…wow!" he looked at me, awe-struck. "You're gonna be a teacher! That's amazing!"

If that comment had come from anyone else, I would have taken it as an insult.

"It's not _that_ amazing. I was _your_ teacher for a time, in case you don't remember."

Draco rolled his eyes as though I was being exceedingly dim. "Yeah, but that's _different_."

"How so?" I asked with a frown.

He shrugged with an air of Malfoy petulance. "It just is," he stated. "Aren't you going to read it?"

"Oh…yes," I had forgotten that I was holding it in my hand. My fingers felt for the flap on the envelope and I noticed, to my immense irritation, that it had already been opened.

My mother looked unbearably smug as I glared over in her direction.

"Don't you know," I said tetchily, "that it is the most inconsiderate thing to open other people's mail?"

"And don't _you_ know," she retorted, "that mothers are allowed to."

I wasn't sure if that was _technically_ true but, to be fair, I did sort of deserve it after our little falling out…even if she did do it before that…

"Open it!" Draco demanded, bouncing excitedly and making me wince.

_Dear Mr Snape,_

_We are pleased to inform you that your application to join the teaching staff at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is currently being taken into consideration._

_We invite you to attend a meeting regarding this on the 1__st__ of July, 1988 to discuss it further. The meeting will be held at 2:30 pm in the Headmaster's office._

_If you cannot make this time or date, or you have any questions, please contact Minerva McGonagall by owl as soon as possible to arrange a more convenient time._

_We look forward to meeting you,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_(Headmaster)_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_(Deputy-Headmistress_

"So, does that mean you've got the job?" Draco asked, eyes scanning the emerald lettering.

"No," I said, re-reading it. "I have to go to a meeting umm…when is it? The day-after-tomorrow." I looked down at him, "So, you'll be here on your own. Is that okay? Are you happy with that?"

"Of course he is," My mother snapped before Draco had a chance to answer. "Why shouldn't he be? Or don't you think I can be _trusted_?"

Okay, so I do have a reputation for holding grudges, but now you know where I get it from.

"I never said you couldn't be trusted," I pointed out coolly, becoming thoroughly annoyed with her. "I merely pointed out that your attitude seems to have changed."

"You called me a bad mother."

"You were a bad mother."

"And with a son as disagreeable as you, you can hardly blame me for thinking what happened was perfectly reasonable."

Draco sat very still throughout this exchange, looking very uncomfortable. It was only when a small hand wrapped itself around my wrist that I even remembered he was there.

"And as such," I finished, hugging Draco close as I glared at my mother, "I'm sure you can understand why I feel…less than happy with leaving my godson alone with you."

Her hurt burned into the back of my head like a white-hot poker as I swept Draco up and stormed from the stairs. There was _no_ way I was going to let _her_ make me feel guilty!

* * *

"Why are you and her so angry with each other?" Draco asked, clambering under the many layers of blankets on my old bed.

"It's complicated," I sighed, sitting down. "I daresay you'll understand when you're older."

Draco made a little growling noise and pulled a face. "I _hate_ it when you say that!" he said with feeling. "How do you know I won't understand unless you tell me."

"Because," I replied firmly. "I do not _want_ you to understand just yet. It will only cause you more problems than you already have."

Frowning deeply Draco watched my closely, as though, if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see into my mind. But an eight-year-old who has no clear idea of what he is doing would never be able get into an adult's mind. Although, it has been known for young wizards and witches to use Legilimensy on someone their own age…accidentally, of course.

"I guarantee that by the age of twenty," I offered by way of a consolation prize, "you will understand completely."

"I'll ask Father," my godson told me smugly. "Father knows most things."

"Not everything?" Now this _was _interesting; had we had this conversation six months ago, Draco would've have wasted no time in assuring me that his father was, in fact, _the_ authority on everything.

"No," said Draco softly, turning away. "Not everything."

A/N: Short and made quickly...like fast food :D Hope you all liked it!

Lily xxx


	26. Part Four take two

_**A/N: **Excuse the re-doing, but I hadn't said what i wanted to say when i first submitted, so i took it off. and as someone said, it wasn't my best, so i'm trying again :D The first and last bit is the same, so if you read the first draft, please read again, Thankyou!_

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** July 1988**_

It was strange going back to Hogwarts. Much stranger than I had anticipated, anyway.

The floors felt the same to walk across as my feet carried me instinctively through the winding corridors, the walls were familiar to touch and the castle still smelled of the same complacent happiness as it had done before.

But, as familiar as it was, it still felt dramatically different; for one thing, the whole place was almost entirely silent as it was the summer holidays, but, for the most part, I think it was simply a case of growing up.

I hoped sincerely that, when the time came, Lucius would let Draco come here rather than Durmstrang. As I knew that Hogwarts would do him the world of good and at least he would have the chance to become his own person whereas in Durmstrang…well, let's just say that knowing the head-master personally would give Lucius a little too much influence.

As it happened, I was not the only person being interviewed that day, although I didn't see them.

Charity Burbage, a witch of about thirty who had recently come back from doing ten years of field work in a muggle community and had written a very long winded book on how there was absolutely no difference at all between muggles and wizards. Unsurprisingly, it was not a popular book in Flourish and Blotts and, as such, she had been forced to find a day job. Predictably, she was now applying for the post of Muggle-Studies Professor.

The other person was a rather annoying Ravenclaw I had vaguely known during my own time at school called Quirinius Quirrell. There was no denying the fact that he was exceptionally intelligent, but he was lacking considerably in the common-sense department and was prone to doing rash things which he would undoubtedly come to regret later on in life.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Upon entering the headmaster's study, I was promptly accosted by my former head-of-house, Horace E Slughorn (what the 'E' stands for, I am not entirely sure)

"Severus!" he thundered delightedly, shaking my hand so hard it made me wince. "How are you? How is your mother? Heard you had a bit of a run in with Lucius. Not a wise thing to do, Severus, I must say. Not wise at all...doing well for himself though, mind. Not that I'm surprised of course…"

It went on like for this for a considerable amount of time and I swear that my hand was going to drop off at any moment, but luckily Dumbledore came in just in time.

"Really Horace," he said in his quiet Dumbledore-like manner. "You should try not to cripple people who may want to work here. You'll put them off and then where will we be?"

His eyes flicked to mine; the light-blue smiling. I had never felt comfortable when Dumbledore looked at me. He always gave the impression that he could see clear into your mind and I had never liked people knowing my secrets…even those people who I trusted.

"I have to say, I was surprised when I received your letter," Dumbledore told me with an amused smile. "I never put you down as a 'people person', Severus. Do you really think you have the patience to work with young persons, most of whom seem to take an innate delight in aggravating their professors?" A contemplative look crossed the older wizard's face. "I seem to remember," he continued, "you telling Professor Slughorn during careers advice, that if you ever had to work with children, you'd turn the killing curse on yourself."

I remembered saying that too…

"Certain incidents have altered my opinion," I replied with a slight scowl. "I seem to have changed considerably since I was fifteen."

"Which is why," Dumbledore said thoughtfully as Slughorn nodded understandingly. "I have never left school. I still have the same ideals as I did when I was eleven…not that I can remember _when_ exactly I was eleven…But anyway," He clapped his hands suddenly as though he had suddenly woken up. "Down to business I think! Excuse us please, Horace."

"Yup yup. Say no more. Drop in when Albus is done with you, if you want Severus. I want to hear everything that my potions prodigy has been up to." He winked at me before meandering away out the door.

"Well," said Dumbledore as we sat down at his desk. "Now we can get to the point." He clasped his long fingers before him on the desk, suddenly serious. "I'll tell you now that you definitely have _a_ job, as there has been a minor change to plan and somebody has dropped out." He watched me closely, waiting for my response.

"Umm…great? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Dumbledore shifted, looking somewhat guilty. "Well, it isn't _exactly_ the job you applied for but, after much deliberation and checking of NEWT results and general opinion, we decided it would be best if…" He paused, then said very fast, "Ifyoutookthepotionsmaster'sjobinstead. And, if you're willing, we wondered if you would also take up the responsibility of becoming the new head-of-house for Slytherin." He scratched his nose, looking decidedly awkward.

"You want me to do potions," I repeated flatly, feeling _most_ unamused. "Might I ask how you have reached that conclusion?"

"You may."

"I am."

"Oh, yes. Well…for one thing, your NEWT result in potions is equally remarkable as that of 'Defense' and you'd have far more creative licence in potions…"

"Tell me the truth."

"And…somebody else has been after the job longer…"

'_Surprise surprise…'_ I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"You see," Dumbledore tried to explain. "Professor Quirrell, who usually teaches muggles-studies, has been asking for that job for a rather extensive period of time, so it was only fair really…and Professor Slughorn recommended you specifically when he informed me that he was retiring."

"Potions isn't considered proper magic by students, you know that." I said flatly. "They won't take it seriously."

"Which is why you'd suit the job perfectly." Dumbledore's voice suddenly cheered up as though he'd solved all the problems of the world.

How that worked I wasn't sure, but I really couldn't be bothered to argue. True enough, potions had been my strong point…but (and I know this sounds terribly superficial) 'Defence' was so much more _fun_!

"Fine," I muttered in a tortured sort of way. "I'll do potions."

"And the head-of-house…?" Dumbledore pressed hopefully.

"Yes, I'll do that too."

After all, how hard could it be to mind a group of Slytherins who were brought up to be relatively independent anyway? Easy money.

"Stupendipidous!" stated the renowned wizard delightedly. "If I could just ask you to fill in these unbearably dull forms, legal things which are pointless yet necessary…quite similar to brushing one's teeth in the morning actually." He thought about this deeply for a moment then, remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he conjured a sheet of parchment and a pen and pushed them towards me.

"I do apologise for my mood," said Dumbledore as I signed my name at the bottom of the form. "I'm quite sure that the house-elves slipped something into my rice-crispies this morning…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"…It's all your fault!" I sat with my legs folded beneath me, feeling sulky and hard-done-by. "If you hadn't _recommended _me, I would be teaching something _interesting_ instead of the magical equivalent of home-economics!"

Slughorn sighed a long, deep sigh, looking very much like a slowly deflating balloon as his moustache rustled like a small furry creature .

"You appear," he said shortly, giving me a very 'teacher-ish' look, "to have forgotten how much pleasure you once took in designing perfect concoction and the thrill in creating something completely flawless." He scowled, sitting even further back in his purple velvet armchair as he continued his lecture.

"You could never achieve such a feeling by waving around a silly piece of wood and muttering something in latin! _Anyone_ can cast a spell, but it takes a certain type of person to create something so beautiful and intoxicating that it can control the mind with a single drop and seduce the senses into thinking what you want them to in a way that magic never could." A blissful look came into the professor's copper coloured eyes.

The amount of times that I had heard this speech before meant that I was now immune to it, however hearing it again did make me think twice about the attitude with which I was approaching this situation. Truth be told, potions _had_ been the subject that I had enjoyed the most; mainly because it was the single time in the day when I least likely to be hexed by certain people and also because…

"Wasn't it a shame about dear old Lily?"

My whole being suddenly froze and my throat constricted unpleasantly. "Mmm…"

"James too," Slughorn continued thoughtfully. "But their boy survived. Harry, wasn't it? Harry Potter…he's going to do well. Shame I won't be around to nurture his natural talent…" He grinned at me, completely disregarding the way my hands were knotting together and my jaw was clenched so tightly I thought it was going to break, "But you'll have the pleasure of teaching him won't you?"

"Mmm…"

"Rumour has it that he's the spitting image of James but he's got Lily's eyes. _Exactly_ her eyes-"

"_Stop it!_ Shut up **shut up**!" My hands- white knuckled- gripped the arms of the chair as I stood up and glared at my former mentor. I couldn't stand even _thinking_ about her, especially in relation to _him_ or their son. I had barely even thought about them in the last few years and I did not need this to be brought up now!

It was all in the past and I had made a pact with myself _never_ to concern myself with the past.

Slughorn stared at me, silenced and surprised by my outburst.

"Forgive me," I murmured, lowering myself back down as I regained control of myself. "I don't like to…I don't like to talk about it…or them."

"Yes, I understand. It was insensitive to mention it considering how close the two of you were…"

We sat in a contemplative silence for a while; the awkwardness, whilst it wasn't stifling, was still relatively uncomfortable.

But then a voice, an oddly familiar one, spoke up above the quietness, "Hullo, is that Severus I can hear? What's he doing here, Horace?"

"Ah!" Slughorn smiled to himself and levered his round body out of his deep chair. Curious and convinced that my ears were playing tricks on me, I followed. "Good afternoon Andrea."

The portrait of Andrea Malfoy beamed down at me in greeting. "I did think it was you," she laughed. "But I wasn't entirely sure…Horace does seem to like to surprise people although sometimes, "she cast him a rather austere look, "it doesn't _always_ go to plan, does it Horace?"

Slughorn made a half protesting, have agreeing sort of snuffling noise.

"So…" I said slowly, trying to regain my bearings. "Why have you got a portrait here?"

"Umm…let me think about that." Her pretty face creased slightly into a frown as she struggled to recall her memory. "Oh yes, I think it was because…oh I can't remember!" she stamped her painted feet moodily beneath the frame. "I can't stand this!" Andrea pouted, "I know something and I know exactly how I want to say, but when it comes to opening my mouth it just disappears. I suppose it's what comes of being superficial…"

"You aren't superficial my dear," Slughorn tried to comfort her.

"Oh but I am," she assured him sincerely. "Paintings are superficial therefore, _I_ am also superficial. Not that I mind, I actually rather enjoy not having to do anything especially clever or interesting. So what are _you_ doing here, Severus? I don't recall you being here before?"

"I was dragged here against my will," I told her seriously. "Kicking and screaming, in fact."

"Really?" concern radiated from her painting. "Oh Horace, you really shouldn't do that to people, it isn't polite! You must let him go at once or I shall never ever tell you anything again as long as you live in these rooms!"

"So you're his _source_?" The realisation hit me suddenly. "You're the one who told him what happened between Lucius and me?"

Andrea bit her painted lip, looking quite abashed. "It was only once and it was quite a frightening episode…anyway," she raised her chin, "you needn't worry Severus, I shan't ever speak another word to him because of the horrible things he has done to you."

"I didn't mean it! I wasn't really kidnapped!" I almost laughed, but I sensed that would just make everything much worse,

Andrea glared at me. "Well then, I am not going to speak to you either. You _men_ and your _tricks_. Go away, both of you!" She sniffed, her Malfoy side coming through, and promptly turned her back on the both of us.

Slughorn shrugged, and waved for us to sit down once more. "She'll be fine in an hour or two. But anyway, Tell me what you've been up to since I last laid eyes upon you?"

"Me?" I fiddled with a loose thread on the velvet arm. "Oh, not a great deal. Nothing interesting anyway."

"Come now, I'm not falling for that. Andrea tells me that you've been causing quite a bit of trouble in Wiltshire…"

"Yes, I suppose that's true…" I muttered. "Lucius and I seem disagree strongly on a lot of things and sometimes it ends up in a bit of a situation."

"Shame…" the professor mused. "You two used to get along so well and, apparently, Lucius came away with a broken nose from it?"

"Really?" Now _that_ pleased me a great deal. "I didn't know that."

"Seriously, Severus, what possessed you?" He looked genuinely concerned. "Do you realise how much danger you could have put yourself in from doing something so stupid?"

"You don't know the full story," I said, waving his concerns aside. "It was completely worth it."

"Hmm…I hope it was. What are you doing with yourself at the moment?"

"I've ended up back home," I replied with an edge of bitterness. "Looking after Lucius' son, falling out with my mother and ignoring my father. The usual, basically."

"Lucius' son?" repeated Slughorn with a frown. "Why is he staying at Spinner's End? You didn't kidnap him out of spite, do you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" I snapped, feeling considerably annoyed that people kept assuming that. "I'm surprised your _source_ didn't tell you, actually. Draco was…_hurt_ by a man and Lucius can't cope with looking after him at the moment, so he's staying with us."

" 'Hurt' as in?"

"Please don't make me say it out loud," I pleaded. "It's just not safe for him to go home yet; Lucius might be a top class business man but when it comes to Draco…well, let's just say that were we under muggle law, he's be in prison by now and Draco would be in care. But he's doing alright. Better than I would've expected, anyway, especially for an eight year-old. I think you'd like him, actually," I said thoughtfully. "He's very bright and surprisingly good company."

"Coming from somebody who has openly stated he doesn't like people, he must be!" Slughorn laughed. "Does Draco like ice-cream?"

"Oh umm…yes. Who doesn't?"

"Fair point. I'd like to meet this boy. He can be my last conquest before I retire!" He clapped his large hands excitedly together as though he was a child who had been promised a new broomstick. "Well that's settled then! We shall meet at one o'clock tomorrow in Diagon Alley and I will buy us ice cream! You may leave now. Good bye!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Did you get it did you get it did you get it?" Draco bounced up to me no sooner had I shut the front door behind me. His clothes, face and hands were smeared with earth and his hair was sticking up at unnatural angles. Draco had obviously caught the sun as his face was flushed from the heat and the tip of his nose looked very burnt.

"What on earth have you been doing?"

"Gardening!" Draco stated proudly. "I picked all the weeds out, then I dug holes in the ground with a fork and I planted sunflowers! _Loads_ of them! And your father says they're gonna grow a hundred feet tall!"

"So you're getting along with my father as well?" It was impossible to mask my surprise at this; my mother having a change of heart was one thing but my _father?_ I swear I had been taken to a parallel universe in my sleep!

"Yup! He's nice and he showed me how to plant seeds so they'll grow tall!" He jumped as high as he could, holding onto my hands. "Tell. Me. About. Hogwarts!" he said with each bounce.

"If you stop acting like a hyper-active kangaroo, then I might."

Draco stood still instantly, although he was still swinging my arm up and down.

"Well, I got a job-"

"Yay!"

"-even though it wasn't the one I wanted-"

"Oohh…"

"-and then I caught up with one of my old teachers and we talked about things and I told him about you-"

Draco looked at me curiously. "Me? Why?"

"Because, my small friend, you have been a rather prominent factor in my life in recent years, have you not?"

Suddenly anxious, Draco asked quietly, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A…mostly good thing."

The grin returned, as did the bounces. "Yay!"

"And now he wants to meet you so, how do you feel about ice cream tomorrow?"

"I like ice cream!" Draco exclaimed delightedly. "And your friend sounds nice!" He suddenly let out a very long, high-pitched squeak of happiness and hugged me tightly around the middle. "I _like_ it here! I like it lots and I want to stay for always! Do you think Father would let me stay? At least 'til my flowers grow? I can't leave 'til they grow a hundred feet tall 'else I wouldn't see them…"

Draco smiled up in the coy way that children do when they're in a toyshop and they say 'I _really_ like _this _one…'

"Would you please ask Father?" he asked sweetly.

I hesitated. "I promise to try, but it's unlikely that it'll get anywhere. But even if you have to go home, I'm sure it would be okay if you came to visit your flowers to see how they're doing."

"Yeah, I suppose that'll be okay. I'm going to go see if they've grown any more now," He tugged on my hand. "Come see with me?"

"I'm coming."

Hope you liked the chapter and I apologise for Slughorn, I haven't written him before, so I'm afraid he isn't very good :P OMG!! They've finished filming HBP!! And Narcissa looks great!! And they're focusing on Draco's character!! EEEEEPPP!! I'm soooo excited!! Bouncebouncebounce!!

Good luck to everyone who's doing their GCSEs at the moment!

Thankyou to all the bumblebees who review! Honey cakes to you all!!

Love Lily xxxx


	27. Part Four 6

My mother, still bitter from our argument, was not as impressed with the fact that I now had a proper job as I would've hoped…

We stood in the back garden; she was taking down the washing from the line as I stood by the backdoor

"Foolish boy," she muttered as she folded socks into a basket. "You _never_ learn, do you?"

I frowned, feeling very much like I was missing something. "Excuse me?"

Straightening herself up, my mother regarded me severely, "Are you really so daft that you can't see that you are being taken advantage of?" she said snidely.

My mind darkened and I gritted my teeth tightly together. "I am _not_," I ground out, "being taken advantage of and I resent the implication that I am!"

"Well then, you _are_ daft."

Setting the basket of clean washing comfortably in her arms, my mother stalked into the house, kicking the back door open as she went.

"'_Well then'_, you'd better explain that to me," I snapped, marching furiously after her. "Because I don't see how getting a better job than I had applied for suddenly means that I am daft!"

The basket was slammed down loudly upon the counter top and my mother whipped around to face me; her dark eyes forbidding and austere. I felt my mouth go dry and I couldn't hep but lower my eyes to the tiled floor. _Merlin! I hate the way she can make me feel like a child!_

"Fine." Her voice was crisp and her expression stony. "I shall tell you," she began to tick things off on her hand, her eyes never once leaving mine as she spoke. "You have, once again, been roped into doing something you had no intention of doing. Not only that, but you were _flattered_ into doing so by a man who barely even acknowledged your existence before and now suddenly he wants a favour. And, to top it all off, you have also been conned into baby-sitting god-knows how many angst-ridden adolescents, even after you know how much trouble only one has caused you! You bloody fool, Severus Snape! You bloody _bloody_ fool!"

I was, to adopt a phrase, rendered speechless. I wanted desperately to tell her that that was entirely wrong about the whole situation, but when it actually came down to it…she was right.

"You would be better off," my mother continued, turning back to her washing, "to go back with Draco. If nothing else, the money would be much better."

"Don't even go there!" Now _this_ was something I could argue with. "I've already had this lecture from Draco's mother and I do _not_ need to hear it from you! I have a _proper_ job now, where I'm a professional and where I will be treated as such, instead of a _servant_ beneath Lucius! There's no way I would ever do that again no matter what you or Narcissa say!"

"You mean it was _offered…?" _The fierceness had returned to her voice. She took several steps towards me and it was instinct for me to stumble back two. "It was offered and you turned it down? What is _wrong_ with you?" The last sentence came out as a screech, making me flinch. "And what about _Draco_? Have you given any thought to him in all this?"

I bit my lip, not willing to answer.

"You _know_ how much that boy depends on you…"

"I'm not his father!" I snapped, anger masking my guilt at the fact that actually I hadn't thought much of what would happen to Draco. "He shouldn't _need_ to depend on me! And besides, I have my own life to lead. I cannot be there constantly to fight his battles for him. Draco needs to start standing up for himself and stop relying on me to do it for him!"

The sound of running footsteps suddenly caught my attention and Draco appeared, breathless and grinning around the doorframe. His smile faltered, however, when he sensed the tension crackling between my mother and I and his eyes- more blue than grey- flicked from me to her uneasily.

Seeing Draco made me immediately retract every word that had so carelessly come from my mouth. I hadn't meant them. Not in the way they were spoken, at least but I knew how badly Draco would react if he had heard me say what I had. And if he knew that I had been given the opportunity to and turned it down…I couldn't bear to hurt him again and I prayed that he would not find out.

"Sir," he said, stepping forward and pointing up to the clock. "It's quarter to one! We're going to be late!"

"Yes, yes. I'm coming. Aren't you going to roast in that?" I noticed that he was, again, wearing my coat.

Draco giggled and did a twirl, making the overlarge garment billow around him like a cape. "It isn't _that_ hot…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It turns out that, actually, it _was_ that hot and, within five minutes of being outside, the coat had come off and I was the one who was landed with carrying the wretched thing.

Diagon Alley was buzzing with soon-to-be Hogwarts students and their flustered parents checking and re-checking the supplies list and still not being sure whether or not navy socks were permitted or was it strictly black? You could tell at a glance who the first time parents of school students were apart and the more experienced ones were; the latter were entirely more relaxed and cruised in an out of shops at a leisurely pace whereas the others buzzed around as fast as was physically possible, dragging their offspring around by the collar.

It was rather amusing to observe this as Draco and I made our way from the Leaky Cauldron down the street to Florean Fortescue's.

Slughorn was late, but that was predictable. I knew for a fact that he did have a watch as it was common knowledge that it had been presented to him by the man who had developed the first Nimbus racing broom, a former student (obviously) who Slughorn claims was so deeply appreciative of his 'nurturing', he has promised to name his next creation after him.

But, more often than not, Slughorn's claims carry no real basis and are not taken seriously by many.

Anyway, we sat outside in the blazing heat of midsummer for at least twenty minutes before the walrus-like professor made his appearance and it was imperative that we ordered as soon as possible before we both melted waiting.

By the time Slughorn had finally rolled over to us, Draco was in danger of drowning in strawberry sauce and I was nose-deep in a new kind of ice-cream, the flavour of which I am still not entirely sure of. But it was cold, and that was all that mattered.

"Hullo!" boomed Slughorn jovially, pulling up a chair and beaming at us. "Fabulous weather, isn't it? You might even get a tan, Severus!"

"I don't tan, I burn."

"Indeed, indeed…sorry to have kept you waiting, lost track of time, you see. A terrible amount of paperwork to get through before I leave…" His moustache rustled irritably at the thought of it. But, as quickly as it takes to count to two, the subject was changed and an expression of delight appeared back on Slughorn's face. "And this must be the young Mr. Malfoy, I presume?"

At the mention of his name, Draco emerged from the icy depths of his glass and smiled shyly in greeting. "Hello," he murmured, wiping his mouth on the paper napkin provided.

Slughorn, looked at my godson thoughtfully then, "Stand up lad, let me look at you."

Draco obeyed, sliding off his chair and standing before us, hands clasped respectfully behind his back as Slughorn looked him up and down appraisingly.

I was reminded unpleasantly of the time that Draco was introduced to Lord Voldemort and the way that he was scrutinised then…the start of all our problems.

"You're smaller than I had expected," observed Slughorn. "_Much_ smaller…and not as-" He thought for a moment, trying to phrase it right. "And not as _solid_ either. Never mind, eh? I dare say you have the right sort of brain despite not having much stature."

Draco glanced over at me, silently asking how the hell he was supposed to respond to that kind of comment.

"I must say though," continued Slughorn contemplatively, twirling one end of his moustache around a finger. "You don't look a bit like either of your parents."

Now it was my turn to examine Draco- who was shifting from foot to foot, uncomfortable at having to stand still for so long. "He does. He's the spitting image of his father."

"Yes and no," Slughorn said cryptically. "He has Lucius' features but, and don't take this the wrong way, Severus, he has _your_ look."

My eyebrow shot up. "My what?"

"Your look," he insisted. "Draco looks like you. Not physically obviously, but it's definitely there."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're going senile. Sit down Draco."

Smirking, Draco returned to his seat.

"What are you grinning about?" I snapped.

"I look like you, Sir."

I glowered. "Draco, you are a Malfoy and, as unfortunate as that may seem, you look exactly like your father and there's nothing you can do to change that. This subject is closed!"

We talked about various other things after that, mostly to do with Slughorn's plans for after the summer. He was very vague about it, but insisted that he wanted to make some sort of fantastic discovery or do something life changing.

"You only get to live once," he explained. "Better late than never, as I always say."

I also mentioned briefly what my mother had said this morning, about my being gullible.

"Don't be ridiculous!" protested Slughorn, a little too quickly. "You got that job because you were the best person for it…no other reason…So, Draco,"

My godson looked up, spoon in hand.

"You looking forward to going to Hogwarts?"

Draco's cheery demeanour faded. "I'm not going," he mumbled with a sigh. "Father wants me to go to Durmstrang…"

"It's an outrage!" Slughorn boomed, causing heads to turn in our direction. "I'll be having strong words with your father about this, boy. Make no mistake in that!"

Draco smiled weakly. "Thank you. I-I don't really want to go, but-"

"You'll bloody well do what you're told!"

Draco gave a small gasp and visibly froze as Lucius Malfoy stepped up behind him and rested his hands on the back of Draco's chair. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said with a smirk. "What a coincidence. Mind if I join you?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I was going to do more and update later on in the week, but my friend convinced me that it was an evil cliff0hanger and I should take advantage of that...so I am lol! Oooh! It's lovely not being in school and updates should become more frequent now that I have more spare time.

Please review! Going by the alerts for this fic, people should be reviewing far more than they are even if it's just a brief opinion. All you writers know how much reviews are appreciated, so please make the effort :P

Next one should be up in the next couple of days!

Lily xxx


	28. Part Four 7

Draco gave a small gasp and visibly froze as Lucius Malfoy stepped up behind him and rested his hands on the back of Draco's chair. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said with a smirk. "What a coincidence. Mind if I join you?"

Before any had time to even register what was happening, Lucius had grabbed a chair from an empty table and placed in deliberately between Draco and I.

Slughorn seemed to be the only one who was unperturbed with the unannounced arrival of Mr Malfoy; "Lucius!" he thundered happily. "We were just talking about you!"

"I am well aware of the fact," came the clipped response. "And it would seem that I got here just in time," he glared down at Draco, who cringed beneath his father's eyes and bowed his head uneasily. "I was going to leave you where you were for a few more days, but I can see that being away from home is disagreeing with you. So-"

"No!" The sound of my voice surprised even me. Lucius' head turned sharply at my protest and I faltered somewhat. "I mean, is that really necessary?" I went on, determined not to give in without an argument. "It hasn't even been five days yet and Draco is happy where he is. He needs stability-"

"Which," Lucius cut in sharply, "is why he should come home. _Immediately_. Anyway, the sooner we get all get back to normal the better and I'm sure you'll be very busy preparing for September, won't you, Severus?" I couldn't quite tell if there was a mocking undertone of that last comment or not or if that damnable sneer was a permanent feature of his face.

Slughorn- not liking the fact that he was not being included in this conversation- tried to change the topic whilst Lucius and I glared Unfogivables at one another and Draco- subdued and shivering- sat back in his chair, ice-cream melted and forgotten.

"I have a bone to pick with you, Mr Malfoy," Slughorn stated loudly. "What's this about you not sending your boy to Hogwarts?"

"I simply feel," Lucius muttered, not looking away from me. "That Draco would do better elsewhere. However, I do not feel the need to explain this to you."

Slughorn humphed sulkily, muttering some carefully chosen insults under his breath.

"But this is getting us nowhere," said Lucius lazily, sitting up and looking business like. Then, glancing down, he barked, "Draco, pay attention."

Flinching at his father's sharp voice, Draco sat bolt upright instantly.

It was horrible to see Draco- who had been so happy just an hour ago- reverting back to the submissive, nervous little thing he had been before. I suppose I hadn't really appreciated how much Draco _had_ changed since he had been staying with us, how much life he now and how happy he seemed to be.

But, as goes the saying, you never appreciate anything until it's gone.

"You may have tomorrow," Lucius told him. "And the next day, I will send a car to pick you up and you will come home. The day after, life will continue as normal. Nothing is going to change, Draco," He shot me a filthy look. "I want to make that perfectly clear. Neither your mother nor I are going to treat you any differently than before. Do you understand me?"

Draco nodded silently, bottom lip caught firmly between his teeth.

The tension- mingled with the repressive heat- was completely suffocating. I, having experienced such hostile conditions _many_ times before, could just about tolerate it. Slughorn, on the other hand was not and it was very obvious, from his expression, that this was not going to be as nice a day out as he had hoped.

"Can I get you guys anything?" A waitress appeared from nowhere; smiling broadly, pad in hand.

"Yes, can I have coffee?" Slughorn asked, relieved to be involved in something.

"One…coffee…" she scribbled on her pad. "Anything else? No? Lovely."

"Father?" Draco whispered after she had left. "Please, who's going to teach me now?"

'_Oh god…'_ I thought, wanting dearly to bash my head on the table top. _'Not another maniac! Please let it be someone half decent…'_

"Due to…less than _fortunate_ experiences," Lucius said carefully. "Your mother and I have agreed that it is both a waste of time and money to invest in a new tutor."

Draco didn't know whether to be relieved at this, or more anxious.

"Therefore," continued Lucius, hands resting together with an air of complete complacency. "I will now take full responsibility for your education until you attend school."

I felt like I had just knocked my head very hard; everything seemed hazy and all I could hear was a ringing in my ears and I could see, by the look on Draco face, that he was feeling even worse.

He had gone completely rigid, as though he had been hit by a full body-bind curse. Lips pressed together so hard they were going blue, Draco struggled to retain enough control to process exactly what he had just heard. He looked to me- desperately seeking assurance and comfort. But I, almost as horrified by Lucius' suggestion as Draco was, was unable to give it.

Lucius was completely oblivious to how much effect this little bit of information had caused and continued smoothly, "Draco, I need to make this quite plain; I am a _very_ busy man, I have other obligations which I need to attend to and, as such, I will _not_ tolerate any poor behaviour on your part. You will do _what_ I tell you, _when_ I tell you and it will be done in the time I give you to do it. Failure to co-operate will result in punishment. It is as simple as that."

I watched powerlessly as a shudder coursed through Draco's body and he gave a small, helpless nod.

Lucius sighed, and sat back- fingers drumming on the arms of the chair. "I know this isn't the ideal situation, but as Severus turned down our offer…"

Of all the malicious, terrible things he could've said, it was that which was the worst. _That_ which had the potential to cause the most harm.

Draco, his eyes filled with disbelief, stared at me; not understanding, not believing that I would betray him in such a way. "W-what? Sir…?"

"I would've come back," I tried desperately. "If I hadn't got the place at Hogwarts, I would've come back."

"Apart from ths was _before_ you got the job…"

"_Won't you just __**shut up**__?_" I yelled, rounding furiously on the insufferable Malfoy. But the damage had already been done.

"They asked you," Draco whispered, his hands knotting restlessly together in his lap. "They asked…and you said no? No more lies, you said…no more saying things that aren't true…"

I tried to meet his eyes…but I couldn't. "I'm sorry Draco…"

Blinking hard to conceal his tears, Draco pushed his chair quickly back with a mumbled, "Excuse me…bathroom…" before darting into the shop.

"What the _hell_ did you have to do that for?" I hissed, leaning right across the table. "That was _completely_ unnecessary!"

"On the contrary," Lucius smirked. "I found it quite necessary."

"You never wanted me to come back, you said yourself in the letter-"

"Which Draco obviously hasn't read even though I said that he should."

"-that I'm to 'stick to my role'. What would you have done if had accepted what Narcissa had offered?"

"I knew you wouldn't," came the arrogant reply. "Not after what happened before. But, I must say, it was necessary for me to have a backup plan just on the off chance that you did have any doubts."

I frowned; trying to think of a way that Lucius could have twisted things to suit himself without making it obvious…

Then I noticed a very guilty looking Slughorn and the proverbial light bulb flashed on.

"You bribed him," I thought out loud, hating them both, hating the fact that I fallen straight into Lucius' trap. "You told him to recommend me specifically to Dumbledore so it would seem that I'm getting the best deal!"

"As I said, it was necessary," said Lucius dismissively. "I want you as far away from Draco as possible. I am sick of you sticking your nose in where it isn't wanted and causing havoc amidst our family! You have influenced him far too much, Severus, and it's time for it to stop! Draco is a Malfoy and it's about time he started behaving like one and with you there, it will be impossible for that to happen."

"How can you say that?" I shouted, unable to believe what I was hearing. "If it wasn't for me, you would never have known what William Southard was doing! And you are far too wrapped up in yourself to have ever noticed yourself! I love Draco and if you-"

"But," Lucius interrupted. "Not enough to come back?"

I gave a short, humourless laugh and shook my head. "You would never have me come back. You have made that _perfectly_ clear."

"True true. Anyway, I think we have had enough drama for one day and I have achieved what I set out to so," he smiled at me. "I think I shall just take my son and we shall be on our way."

"I'm not going!"

Now it was Lucius' turn to falter. Neither of us had noticed Draco there and as for how much he had heard…but the look on Draco's face was enough to say everything.

Metal scraped across the stone paving and Lucius rose slowly and looked down on his son. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not going home," Draco repeated, chin raised, hands clenched into fists by his side. "I don't want to!" I had never seen him this angry or with this much nerve to even think about talking to his father like this. He was growing up, I realised. And maybe he had heard what I had said earlier about him needing to stand up for himself…

'_Please be careful, Draco,'_ I thought to him as I watched the two Malfoys glare at each other- one with complete hatred set deep into the silvery blue and the other with anger mingled with surprise,

"Did I ask you what you wanted?" Lucius hissed. "Did I give you a choice in the matter? _No_! I didn't! So don't you dare speak out of turn!"

But Draco was not to be silenced. "I'm not going home with you! You can't make me! You're a liar and I hate you! **I hate you!** LET GO OF ME!"

Lucius had grabbed hold of Draco's collar, eyes blazing. "Control yourself, you stupid boy! I haven't brought you up to behave like a muggle so stop acting like one!"

"I don't care!" Draco shrieked, oblivious to the attention he was receiving from nosy passers by. "I'd rather be a muggle than live with you! You don't care about me! You'll do anything to stop me being happy! I hate you and I wish you weren't my father-"

A roar of anger accompanied by a vicious slap cut Draco's sentence short. "Don't you_ dare_," Lucius shouted, all self-restraint gone as he struck Draco again and again about the head. "Don't you dare _ever_ speak to me like this again, you ungrateful little brat! After everything I have done for you, after everything you have been given…you have absolutely _no_ idea at all how bloody lucky you are! **Come back here!**"

Draco had twisted free somehow and he now stood a little way off- he was shaking visibly and his lip was bleeding, but he was in no way cowed. On the contrary in fact, he seemed stronger and calmer but no less infuriated.

"I'll never forgive you," he said to Lucius, "for what you did. You don't listen and you don't care…you never have and you can't stand me having someone who does." Draco turned is eyes to me now. Me who hadn't moved an inch. Me who had completely frozen with astonishment and hadn't even tried to help. And Draco smiled a proper toothy, bloodstained smile.

Lucius stood there- completely still, completely silent- as though assessing what was the best line of action to take next. Then, almost painfully slowly, he stepped over to his son, one deliberate step at a time, leant down right next to the little boy's ear and whispered, "You'd do well to watch yourself, Draco. One day, that's all you have left and then you are coming back home where you belong. Do _not_ forget who you are."

He raised his hand suddenly and I saw Draco flinch. Lucius smirked and lowered it again. "But I don't think you'll be able to forget very easily."

Then, straightening himself up, he glanced over in my direction, gave a curt nod and stalked away.

As soon as Lucius had gone, Draco's legs gave way beneath him and he fell to the ground, trembling violently, clearly frightened by his audacity. I leapt up, my legs waking up, and dashed to his side, hugging him fiercely.

"Sir…"

"It's okay Dragon, I've got you. You're okay…"

"Why did I do that?" Draco murmured tearfully. "I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have said those things…I don't know why I did and now…and now I have to go back and he's gonna be so angry…what am I going to do?" The last part was let out as a wail and he burst into tears.

"Come on," I said, taking my weeping godson by the hand. "We'd better get home and we can sort everything out there. Come on, Draco."

And we walked away, ignoring the stares and leaving a very confused Slughorn alone with the bill.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Ta daaa! I said it wouldn't be too long :D Hope you liked this and I'm sorry for making Lucius into a total git but, let's face it, at the moment he is. Lucius is one of those people who, when out of control ofhis life, does everything in his power to get it back, even if it isn't necessarily the best way to deal with things. But he's not all bad; he really does love Draco but only when Draco is acting perfectly and not doing anything the least bit unpredictable..and anyway, Lucius just isn't that great at doing all the things that parents are supposed to.

Excuse my ramblings, it's quarter past mid-night and I am rather tired and when i get tired, i tend to ramblie...a lot. Hee hee! Ramblie lolage pie!!

Luv and cupcakes to everyone who is going to review and who has reviewed :D

Lily xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	29. Part Four 8

"You're back early," said my mother, opening the door to us. "Had a nice time?" At least she was in a better mood than she had been this morning; I'm not sure I would have been able to stand anymore snide remarks from _anyone _without causing grievous bodily harm_._

"Not really," I replied quietly. "There was a bit of an incident."

Beside me, I felt Draco's hand tighten around mine, his nails biting almost painfully into my skin. He was still overwhelmed by what had happened and it really wasn't fair to discuss it in front of him at the moment.

My mother's dark eyes widened with concern at my words. "An 'incident'?" she repeated. Then she caught sight of Draco- of his tearstained face and the bruises from Lucius' attack.

"Good lord!" she whispered, tearing her eyes away from him to look at me. "What on earth happened?"

"Sir," Draco tugged anxiously at my sleeve. "Please may I…Can I go see my flowers?"

"Yes. Of course you can."

We watched despondently as Draco fled into the house and only when we heard the back door shut, did my mother drag me into the living room by the sleeve. Shoving me onto the sofa, she stood over me, glaring as though it was _my_ fault.

"_What. Happened?_" my mother demanded fiercely. "You were _supposed_ to be going for ice-cream!"

"We did…but, well, like I said, there was a bit of an _incident_. Lucius turned up and everything got a bit out of hand," _'Understatement of the centaury!'_ I sighed deeply, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. "To cut a long story short, Draco is to go home the day after tomorrow and Lucius has decided to take complete control over his son's education."

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" she whispered, lowering herself down into the chair opposite me. "I mean, at least there won't be any danger of _that_ happening again. Lucius would never dream of ever…"

"No, but you have seen Lucius' temper. I must say, I can't decide which is worse; to live in fear of molestation or to know that you will be beaten for the slightest mistake. Which would you prefer, Mother? A threat of danger or certain danger?"

She didn't answer me. She merely looked; her eyes were sad and helpless…and it scared me to see her so lacking in control. As she had been when I was little.

"You know that it isn't like that, Severus," said my mother quietly. "It is far, _far_ more complicated."

"But _why_?" I pressed, nearly at the point of whining. "I don't see why it should be! Lucius is hopeless as a parent and you said yourself that you aren't comfortable with sending Draco home! _Why_ is that complicated?"

"It is complicated," said my mother slowly, picking her words with care, "because Draco loves his father and no amount of abuse if going to change that. And going by what Lucius was saying the other day when he was here, he genuinely wants to do right by Draco too…he has the theory, but struggles to put it into practise."

She was right, of course, but I didn't want to hear it. After today, I didn't want to hear a single word spoken in that man's favour.

"Well," I spat, standing up. "_You'd_ know all the fine details of bad parenting, wouldn't you? You could write a book of excuses…"

My mother was not in the mood to fight, however. "Stop acting like a petulant teenager, Severus, and sit down," she snapped

I obeyed begrudgingly.

"I am not trying to make excuses for Lucius," she told me, leaning forward in her seat. "But you have to try and understand how complicated and unpredictable the relationship between a parent and their child is. You are not Draco's father, Severus and, as much as you care about that little boy, the relationship he has with you will never be the same as the one he has with Lucius."

"I know but-"

"No, I don't think you do." I had never heard her speak this seriously before and that, if nothing else, was what made me pay attention. "You have had to work to gain Draco's affection and trust, have you not? And you still have to be careful, don't you?"

I nodded slowly.

"Well, surely if things were as simple as you make them out to be, Draco ought to hate his father now, shouldn't he? By rights, Draco would be happy if he never saw Lucius again. If things were _that_ simple."

Regarding my hands, I muttered, "Today Draco told Lucius that he hated him. That he wished he wasn't his father…"

"Draco doesn't have a choice and besides," she smiled a bitter sort of smile, "all children tell their parents that they hate them. And you know what? Not one of them means it. Fear is not the same as hatred, no matter how similar they appear, especially when it comes to families." My mother bit her lip, then said very softly, "I'm sorry for being a rubbish mum. I'm sorry for not trying harder when you were younger."

Her words startled me, making me falter.

" 's alright," I said, feeling exceptionally uncomfortable. "I guess it wasn't your fault."

Smiling a relieved sort of smile, my mother rose. "Thanks, love," she murmured, kissing me on the forehead…something I do not recall her doing for years. If it had not taken me by surprise so much, maybe I would've returned the kiss…but, as it was, I was rendered immobile and could only watch as she wondered off into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

I felt guilty, in a way, that she was apologising and that I had caused her to feel bad enough to do so. But also, I was grateful for what she had said and, because of how much pride she had, I knew that she meant it.

--

Draco had remained outside for the rest of the day, not even coming in to eat. My father stayed with him and I watched from the kitchen window as they tidied the garden together. It was odd how much Draco's presence had affected both of my parents; my mother, as you may have noticed, was realising her failures and was, in her own way, trying to make up for them now and my father…I don't know. I can't quite put my finger on exactly what it was, but I could definitely see a change in him as well and the two of them seemed to get on remarkably well, especially considering how much my father detested magic and children in general. As such, I was forced to come to the rather unpleasant conclusion, that it was _me_ he didn't like and not, specifically, what I 'was'.

But I really couldn't care less whether he liked me or not. It didn't affect me either way.

--

That night, I lay in bed and stared wearily up at the dark ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster and worrying. For once, I didn't have a choice to make, I didn't have to fret about making the wrong decision and ruining someone's life…but god, in a way, I wish I did.

It was worse, I think, or at least equally unpleasant to have absolutely no say at all, but even if I could choose an alternative, I had no idea what would be better; I wasn't prepared to go back to Malfoy Manor and, even if I did, it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference…or at least that is what I convinced myself. I could also understand Lucius not wanting to risk taking on another stranger, after William…

Maybe my mother was right; maybe Lucius taking complete control _was_ the best thing…

Or maybe it was the worst thing that could possibly have happened. I didn't know. My whole sense of judgement was confused. Anyway, as I kept being told; Draco was not my responsibility, I should stop worrying about things that I have no power over…

I sighed with discontentment, swung my legs around and strode downstairs. There was no way that I was going to get a half-decent nights sleep, so I may as well be doing something rather than just lying awake with my thoughts.

Plodding into the kitchen, I fumbled along the wall and finally my fingers found the light-switch. Light illuminated the room, making me wince and I stumbled, half-blind, over to the kitchen table only to find that there was someone else already sitting there.

I blinked in surprise, "Draco?"

My godson raised his head; his brow creased with concern and, when he looked at me, his eyes were bright with tears. In his small hands, I could see that he was holding a sheet of parchment, emblazoned with the Malfoy crest. The letter which Lucius had sent me earlier.

"What're you doing?" I asked, pulling up a chair next to him.

"Father said I should read it…" muttered Draco, turning his attention back to the letter. "And I wanted to know why." He sighed and set it down in front of him. "But it just says what he said earlier. Nothing's going to change…it's all just going to stay how it was before." The reality of this fact made Draco physically cringe; sharp front teeth pierced his bottom lip and small hands were pressed over his eyes, hiding the tears from me.

"The only reason," Draco said in a choked voice, "that Dr Southard did what he did is because is so I wouldn't get in trouble with Father so much. And it was all for nothing! Now I don't even have a chance 'cause I don't always understand things at first and Father won't explain things twice, so he'll think I'm being bad and then he'll hit me! I'd rather have Dr Southard!" he said shrilly. "I'd rather have him and he did what he did than have Father knowing everything I do and all the mistakes I make. I don't think I could stand things going back to how they was before and what with you going away to Hogwarts…"

Well, I suppose I had that coming…

"Father's wrong," muttered Draco, wiping his eyes miserably and sitting up. "Thing's aren't going to go back to how they were. They're going to get worse."

"Draco, you can't really believe that," I tried uneasily. "It can't get any worse…."

"Yeah, it can!" he countered, glaring at me. "And it'll be doubly bad 'cause Father'll be really angry for answering back earlier and yelling and such. He'll get me for that, I know he will!"

I couldn't exactly argue with that and I didn't know what I could say to make him feel better. I had done my best, but it still wasn't enough. I was completely out of ideas and I hated myself for being so helpless.

"Well, I suppose the only thing you can do is try to stay out of the way as much as possible. I really don't know what else to suggest," I sighed as Draco looked disappointed. "Your father is stubborn and nothing I, nor anyone else, can say will make him change his mind. I'm sorry for being so rubbish."

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You're not _that_ rubbish, Sir. You could be rubbish-er."

"I couldn't because that isn't even a word."

"But if it was, you would be."

I rolled my eyes. "I can see _you're_ feeling better," I muttered, making Draco grin. "Do you think you could sleep now?"

The smile disappeared from the little boy's face faster than it had appeared and Draco shook his head quickly, making his hair fall in front of his face.

"Why not?"

He looked at me, trying to determine whether or not he should answer, then he lowered his eyes before saying softly, "I keep on thinking about things when I'm in bed and they make me not sleep, so then I think about them even more…I don't like it."

"What do you think about? Dr Southard?"

Draco nodded, subdued. "Yes. Being in the dark always reminds me of him. And then I think what would I do if Father were to try and do what he did. What _could_ I do? And I know that you say he wouldn't, but what if he did? You said yourself that you can't stop Father from doing anything and what if he did that and wouldn't stop?"

"He _wouldn't_," I said, more than a little fiercely, making Draco jump slightly at my tone. "Your father, as hard as it is to believe, honestly wants to do the right thing for you. As much as it may seem that he hates you, he does love you Draco, but he doesn't show it very well."

But, far from being reassuring, my words only served to scare Draco further.

"I-I don't want him to l-l-love me…" he stammered, looking alarmed. "I don't want anyone to! I-I heard it when…when you said that y-you loved me b-but I didn't want t-t-to believe that you…that you meant it…"

"But why wouldn't I mean it?" I asked, certain that I was missing something. "Of course I did! Of course I meant it!"

Draco was silent for a moment, struggling to make sense of this. "Is…is that w-why brought m-me here?" he asked tremulously, unable to look at me directly. "Because…because you l-l-love me?"

"Yes…Draco what on earth's the matter?" He had gone deathly white and, when I reached out to touch him in concern, he was as tense as a bowstring.

At the feel of my hand on his shoulder, Draco shuddered and pressed his lips together so tightly they almost turned blue. I could see that he was desperately trying to keep control of himself but for the life of me I couldn't think why.

"Dragon, what's wrong?" I asked again.

"Why?" Draco managed to choke out, head turned deliberately away from me. "You said…you said I-I-I didn't have to…that h-he was wrong…" He was past the point of tears now and his voice was shrill and frightened. "Th-that's why you c-came down isn't it? Y-y-you're going to…to…"

"What?" I implored desperately. "Draco you aren't making sense!"

"You're going to do what he did!" His words came out so fast and so high-pitched that at first I could not understand what he said. But then it became all too clear.

"You think that I'm going to rape you?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

Draco eyed me warily, shoulders hunched. "You said you loved me…and that's why you brought me to your house so you could…so you could…"

"I think," I said slowly. "That we have got our wires crossed somewhere along the lines. Now here's the plan; I am going to make us both something to drink, then we are going to sit down in the living room and sort this mess out, okay? Draco, is that okay?"

But Draco couldn't speak. He sat hunched in his chair, staring numbly down at his lap as still and as unresponsive as a china doll.

Sighing, I flicked the switch on the kettle. Tea, even if it didn't solve anything, at least made every situation easier to handle.

--

Draco was as docile as a dog on a lead as we moved into the more comfortable living room and sat down stiffly on the sofa- perched right on the edge of his seat. He didn't even flinch when I took the place beside him, the only indication he was actually fully conscious was that his eyes kept flicking to me, to make sure he knew exactly what I was doing and, more importantly, what my next move was going to be.

How did we get here? I questioned myself despondently as I watched him watching me. How can everything be perfectly fine one moment and disastrous the next?

"Talk to me," I ordered firmly so that he could not ignore me

Draco ignored me, pulling his legs up onto the sofa to create some sort of a barrier between us.

"Talk to me," I said again, sharper this time and I reached over to push Draco's feet back onto the floor. He winced as his bare feet struck the ground, recoiling slightly. But at least I now had his full attention.

"If you're going to," whispered Draco miserably. "Just do it, Sir."

That last sentence cut surprisingly deep; before, I don't think it had actually clicked in my mind that he was talking about _me_. That he thought _I_ was going to do those terrible things to him. But he did, despite everything that we had been through together, Draco still didn't trust me enough not to hurt him.

The hurt and the disappointment caused my throat to constrict and my heart to ache.

"Do you really believe that I would?" I asked softly. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Silver eyes searched mine as though trying to see my true intentions and then, so quietly I could hardly hear him, "I-I don't know…I guess not…B-but you s-s-said-"

"That I love you, yes I know that. But please," I was almost pleading with him to explain to me. "How does that mean I would do _that_ to you?"

But I knew the answer before Draco even opened his mouth.

"Dr Southard?"

Draco nodded tearfully. "Whenever he did something and I tried to say no, he'd say 'Don't you want to be loved?' and…and that night when he did it really bad he said…he told me that that's what people do when they love one another…" At the memory, Draco trembled and a tear rolled down his nose, splashing onto the carpet.

"It's not true, Dragon," I edged closer to him, slowly so as not to startle him. "He was wrong to do what he did. _Completely_ wrong. I have told you that already."

Wiping first his eyes, then his nose, my godson raised his head, still looking sceptical. "So, people don't do that when they love someone?"

"Well…" I hesitated, suddenly realising that I was going to have to give Draco The Talk. Oh sweet Merlin… "Well, they do, but it's a different kind of love, Draco. _Entirely_ different. Understand?"

Draco stared at me blankly. "No…"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, I would've sworn that Draco was being purposefully unhelpful.

"Well," I seemed to like that word… "There are three kinds of love-"

"_Three_?" Draco repeated with surprise. "How can there be _three_?"

"If you didn't interrupt me," I said coolly. "I would tell you."

Draco bowed his head quickly. "Sorry Sir."

"As I was saying, there are, I think, three kinds; you can love someone in your family, like you father. There's friendship, like us. And then there's…" I searched hopelessly for the right words, feeling excruciatingly uncomfortable. " 'Grownup love'," I finished lamely, wishing that the proverbial ground would open up and swallow me. "Like your parents."

"Oh," Draco's eyebrows knotted together was he tried to get his young mind around that notion. "So…so what was Dr Southard? 'Cause he said what he did was love and wasn't family or friends and I'm not a grownup."

I drank down my whole mug of scalding tea in one before I tried answering him.

"Dr Southard…I suppose, in a way, he was telling you the truth when he said that that's what people…_adults_ do when they are in love with each other. But what he did to you was in no way shape or form 'love' because, for one thing, you didn't want him to do what he did and for another, you're just a little boy, Draco and no one should be doing that to you. They shouldn't even _think_ of it. _I_ know that, you father knows that but some people…some people think they can take advantage."

"Advantage?" Draco repeated questioningly. "What's that?"

"It means he thought he could make you do whatever he wanted because you're a child and your parents…" I stopped myself quickly, afraid of upsetting Draco again. But, by his sigh, I knew that he knew what I was going to say.

"Wouldn't notice," Draco finished despondently, leaning far over to place his mug on the table. "If you hadn't come back, they still wouldn't have noticed and it would still be happening…thanks."

"No problem," I lied, smiling. "But Draco, seriously," He looked up attentively. "If this ever happens again, if anyone- and that means _anyone_- tries to touch you in a way you don't like, you _run_. You don't try and talk them out of it, you don't wait until it's too late, you run to somewhere safe and you tell someone you can trust. Do you understand? Do _not_ do what you did today because if I was going to do that to you, you certainly gave me the chance to do it, didn't you?"

"Yes Sir. But where do I go?" he asked, suddenly anxious. "If it happens at home, what do I do? I don't know how to get anywhere."

Good question…I thought about this for quite a while; my first thought was to say 'Get to Hogwarts'. That was, undoubtedly, the safest place but then again, it was practically impossible to reach on one's own and the journey would be far too dangerous for Draco to make on his own.

"Tell you what," I said slowly. "Let me just go and get something a second…"

I rose and made my way briskly upstairs first to the spare room to grab twenty sickles out of my coat pocket and then into my own bedroom in which I was sure there was some old stationary I had left over from school holidays.

Sure enough, after rummaging through the draw in my bedside table, I was able to find sheet of paper that hadn't been stained and an envelope. I swiftly scrawled- _5 Spinner's End, Suffolk. Straight to the door please. Severus Snape_- on the paper and stuffed both it and the twenty sickles into the envelope.

"Here," I said, handing it to Draco, who took it wordlessly. "You run, you find the Knight Bus- which will always come to you- and you give this to the conductor, who will bring you here. Keep it in a _very_ safe place," I stressed. "But not so safe you can't find it again and only use it in emergencies. Have you got that?"

Draco nodded, fingertips brushing almost tenderly over the envelope. "Thank you Sir."

"Think you can sleep now?"

This time, Draco managed to smile. "Yeah. I'm tired." He slid of the sofa, wobbling somewhat with tiredness. Then, with a slight awkwardness, he stepped up and hugged me briefly, before darting away with a quick "Goodnight Sir."

--

A/N: Well, that was a long chapter...I'm pretty sure I have something more to say, but I can't quite remember what it was...humm...oh yes, has everyone seen the new Draco pics from HBP?? HEART!! Go to mugglenet immediateky if you haven't. Also, I'm writting a new fic entitled 'Summer at Spinner's End' and it's about Lucius going to stay with Severus for the Easter holiday during their second year. There's no major angst or anything, but it concentrates on the friendship between the two of them if anyone's interested. And with that, the shameless plugging is over :D

And thankyou for all the great feedback (and the peanut) for the last chapter :D Peanuts are appreciated and I shall distribute pieves of my gran's chocolate (of which I have an imaginary ever-lasting supply) to everyone who reviews.

Ugh, I am shameless...shrug.

Love Lily xxx


	30. Part Four 9

_**July 1988**_

As much as everyone tried to hide it, the sense of coming to an end loomed unpleasantly over Number five Spinner's End and everyone, especially my father, was a little bit more sombre than usual.

But, thankfully, both of my parents made a decided effort to ensure that Draco's last day with us was a pleasant one; my mother attempted (and failed) to bake cakes and the end result was a burnt-on-the-outside, raw-on-the-inside inedible mess and a flour covered Draco. My father, sorry to see his helper go, decided to teach my godson how to use the hosepipe. It actually went surprisingly well…until Draco accidentally turned it on himself then, as he tried to drop it and run, on my father. Draco kept his head down and stayed very close to me after that.

Draco himself was delighted by all the positive attention he was receiving but I could see the worry and the fear of what was to come etched into his young features. But, like everyone else, he did his best not to let it get in the way.

I wondered, as I watched him laugh, had I done the right thing by bringing him here and allowing him to experience such…_normality_, for want of a better word, when the moment he stepped back into his home all the abuse and all the misery would simply start again…was it fair to present something and flaunt it, only to snatch it away?

I didn't know and I tried hard not to dwell on it. At least, for once, I could comfort myself with the knowledge that I had helped in some small way and that I had done my best.

"When will I see you next?" Draco asked as I helped him to put his things together ready for tomorrow. "When are you coming to the manor?"

"I don't know," I said after a long pause, in which socks were paired and a shirt was folded. "The school holidays are infrequent…"

Draco's forehead creased, not liking where this was going at all. "_How_ infrequent?" came the almost imperious demand. He sounded like his father. Frighteningly so.

I looked at the thin little eight-year old, who stared back at me with fierce, determined grey eyes, flared nostrils and slightly pouting mouth. He would not stop questioning, I knew, until he had at least some idea of when I would be able to visit and he had my solemn promise that I would see him the second I got the chance.

"_How_ infrequent?" Draco asked again, more urgently.

"I have quite long periods of free time at Christmas and during the summer," I replied carefully. "I have one week during Easter and I am sure that I can negotiate a few weekends here and there."

Draco scowled heavily and threw the rest of his clothes carelessly into the bag; crumpled and unfolded. It took every ounce of self-control not to repack everything again…

"But you will write to me, won't you?" said Draco, peering up at me anxiously. "Promise you won't forget! _Promise_ Sir!"

"Why would I forget?" I asked waspishly, more than a little irked; Draco's lack of faith in me never ceased to astound…

"You'll be _busy_," my godson replied in a tone which suggested I was being purposefully dim-witted. "You'll be working, won't you? Which is why you won't be able to visit so much, isn't it? But you _have_ to promise to write lots! I-I'll write back again!"

I couldn't help but smile at Draco's sincerity and the fierceness in his voice. It seemed that I was silent for too long, however, as the boy sighed dejectedly and sat back on his heels- convinced that my silence meant the worst.

"Draco, you fool!" He glared up at me from behind a curtain of white-blonde hair, then squeaked loudly as I leaned over and tugged him towards me. "Of course I'll write! I promise. Do you understand that?"

Draco wiggled and mumbled something.

I tickled him mercilessly. "What was that?"

"YES!" he shrieked, tugging at my hands and giggling hysterically. "Okay okay! Stop it! _**Sir!!**_"

One of his flailing limbs lashed out suddenly and hit me squarely on the nose. Momentarily stunned, I let go and Draco scrambled, panting and laughing, out of my reach. Then, as quickly as his sparkle had appeared, it immediately vanished again and was replaced with wide-eyed fright. A small hand flew to his mouth. "Sorry sorry…"

"Hmm?"

Draco waved a finger vaguely in my direction, his distress such that only one word was able to escape from his lips. "Blood…"

I touched my stinging nose gingerly and, sure enough, a small amount of a sticky red substance came away on my fingers. I winced- more aware of the pain now that the damage had been brought to my attention.

"Excuse me." Pinching the bridge of my nose and tilting my head back, I rose awkwardly and walked at a brisk pace across the landing. Draco followed uncertainly, keeping several paces behind

'_And now he's scared again,'_ I thought bitterly as I held a wad of damp tissues up to my nose. _Things can never just be simple, can they?'_

Secretly, (so secret, in fact, I didn't even admit it myself) I was looking forward to having some time when I wouldn't have to be constantly worrying about doing or saying something that would cause a panic or when the only person I had to care about was myself.

Luckily, Draco was not especially strong so the hit had not been as hard as it could've been and the bleeding stopped in less than a minute. Throwing the bloodied tissue into the toilet, I smiled reassuringly at Draco, who regarded me with obvious wariness.

"See?" I said softly, "No harm done."

My godson's eyebrow twitched disbelievingly. "I made you bleed. Harm _was_ done 'cause you was hurt."

I fought hard against the urge to roll my eyes; Draco always had to take things so _literally_! But I suppose it another defence mechanism more than anything else- you stand more of a chance doing the right thing if you take things literally than if you don't. Generally speaking, of course. It wsn't always the case.

"But it doesn't hurt anymore, the bleeding has stopped _and_," I went on quickly as Draco opened his mouth to argue. "And it was an _accident_. You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"

Sullenly, he shook his head and scuffed the toes of his shoes loudly on the carpet.

"Precisely," I concluded, smirking with triumph. "Therefore, no harm done."

"So…" Draco edged slowly forward, his eyes narrowed slightly with suspicion . "So, you aren't cross with me?"

"Does it look like I am?"

"No…" his lips twitched slightly into the beginning of a smile.

"Do you _want_ me to be?"

"No!" The amused twinkle had returned to his eyes.

Raising my chin and looking him directly in the eyes, I stepped slowly, deliberately over to him in a way so similar to Lucius that I saw Draco flinch ever so slightly as I drew closer. Then, I leant down and whispered in his ear, "Then I'm not."

Not knowing whether he should be angry at my cruel joke or relieved that he wasn't in trouble, Draco made a noise halfway between and shriek and a laugh and flung his skinny arms tightly around my neck.

"_Sir_!" he whined as I struggled to lift him. It wasn't that he was particularly heavy, I simply wasn't prepared for having a small boy around my neck. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Don't do what?" After a small amount of adjusting and readjusting, I eventually got a decent grip on him.

Draco wiggled in my arms, trying to get comfortable. "_That_," he repeated as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Acting like Father. Pretending you're going to…do what he does."

I sighed deeply and, finally, voiced what had been bothering me so much. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

The sudden seriousness of my question made the grin fade from Draco's lips and the smile disappear from his eyes. "It isn't that," he whispered, fingers playing absently with my hair so that he didn't have to look directly at me.

"Then _what_?" I pressed, desperate to understand. "What is it? Why are you still so afraid of me?"

I felt Draco tense and then, softly, "I-I don't know. I can't help it…" the little boy grimaced; hating the fact that he couldn't explain exactly what he meant. "I _know_ that you would never do what Dr Southard did or act like Father does but…" he licked his lips, unsure whether he wanted to continue.

"But?" I urged.

"But I can't help thinking, what if?" Draco turned his head slowly, expression fiercely intense as he tried to convey both to me and also to himself precisely what was going on in his troubled mind. "What would I do if you did?" he continued. "Who would help me then? Where would I be able to run to?"

Draco sighed and leaned down to rest his head against my shoulder. "And I don't know the answer to any of those questions! I _know_ that you wouldn't, but in the back of my mind…I know that you could if you wanted to. I don't like that, Sir, it scares me."

"But as long as you know that I wouldn't," I touched his cheek lightly with the back of my hand. "As long as you know that I'm on _your_ side, you don't have to worry about me. We're okay aren't we, you and me?"

Showing several gaps in his teeth, Draco grinned and hugged my neck. "Yeah, we're great."

Then suddenly, another thought struck me violently about the head. "Draco?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Why do you still call me 'Sir'? I'm not your tutor anymore, you don't have to call me that."

Draco frowned very deeply. "But…but that's what you're called!"

"Draco, you know _perfectly_ well what my name is-"

"Yes yes, I know," said Draco impatiently. "But that's what _I_ call you. I wouldn't call anyone else 'Sir' because that's _you_. Besides," he smirked. "Your name's silly."

"And your name isn't?" I retorted coolly, resisting the overwhelming temptation to drop him.

"_My_ name means 'Dragon'," Draco reminded me haughtily. "Anyway, 'Sir' suits you. It wouldn't be _right_ to call you anything else."

I humphed, still annoyed about his jibe at my name. "What did you call Dr Southard, then?"

Draco winced and lowered his eyes uncomfortably. "I didn't call him anything," he answered softly. "I didn't speak to him unless he spoke to me first."

"And what about when you go away to school? What will you call your teachers then?"

"Professor!" stated Draco happily. "Besides, I called you 'Sir' before you was-"

"Were," I corrected.

"Were. I called you 'Sir' before you were my tutor, didn't I? So it hasn't anything to do with that. Why do you suddenly mind when you never did before?"

I shrugged- a surprisingly difficult action when holding an eight-year old. "I _don't_ care. It just struck me as odd. I don't care what you call me. Anyway," I set him back down on the ground. "We had better go and finish sorting out your things before tomorrow.

Draco's eyes glittered with Malfoy brazenness and said impudently as he skipped down the hall, "Yes _Mr Snape."_

_A/N: Please excuse the shortness of this chaoter, but I'm going to France for 2 weeks and I wanted to update before that :D_

_Btw, if your looking for 'Dear Santa' (one of my fics) a prick called Lewis Lang hacked into my account and deleted it...I guess he could have done a lot more damge but still..._

_Hope everyone has a good summer!_

Love Lily xxx


	31. Part Four 10

**_WARNING: Ending contains one swear word and may upset some :P_**

_**4**__**th**__** July 1988**_

"So what time are we expecting Draco's father?"

I looked up from my failed crossword and shrugged. "I don't know," I admitted as my mother gave me a look as though to say 'don't you know _anything_?' "I can't imagine that it'll be late, though," I continued quickly so that she wouldn't think me entirely incompetent. "Around midday perhaps."

"Hmm…" She bustled around for a while, trying to be busy. But her mind, like my own, was far too preoccupied and, in the end, all she could do was sit down in despair.

"It's so unfair…" my mother angrily muttered to her hands. "So bloody _bloody_ unfair!" Then, having taken a long, deep breath, she composed herself and turned her sharp eyes once again upon me. "Is Draco still asleep?"

Laying my pen down upon the table, I nodded. "Yes. It isn't like him to sleep late, but I suppose he was awake for quite a while last night fretting about today. I'll wake him in a while."

"No," she spoke quietly, thoughtfully. "I think it best if we leave him as long as possible."

"Why?" I asked, frowning.

"Because, if he is awake," explained my mother carefully. "He will have nothing to do other than become more and more anxious and work himself into a state and that will do no one any good. No, just let him sleep as long as possible."

I agreed reluctantly. As selfish as it may seem, I wanted to spend as much time with Draco as I could before we parted because, despite being quick to reassure him that I would see him soon, truth be told I hadn't a clue; it might only be a few weeks, it might be several months. I didn't know.

* * *

As I predicted, the knock on the door came just after twelve o'clock in the afternoon. Immediately, the roof of my mouth went dry and the actual reality of what I was about to do hit me brutally. How could I, in good conscience, possibly send Draco back to where he was sure to be in danger? It was like pulling someone out of an acromantula's nest, brushing them down, only to push them in again with a piece of mean around their neck. The hypocrisy made me inwardly cringe.

"Shall I get it?" my mother asked, touching me gently on the shoulder. "You go and sort Draco out. Take your time, there's no need to rush."

I nodded dully and forced myself to stand.

As I trudged up the staircase, pausing briefly to glance down at the door, the knock came again- louder and more insistent.

'_Go!'_ my mother mouthed, hand poised over the handle.

* * *

"Dragon?" I tickled his ear lightly, but apart from stirring slightly, Draco continued to sleep deeply.

"Come on, Draco," I said a little louder. "Wake up for me."

At this intrusion into his dreams, Draco moaned and scrunched up his face with displeasure. He neither helped nor resisted as I lifted him into a sitting position.

"What time's it?" asked Draco dazedly, forcing his eyes open and blinking hard.

"Just gone twelve," I murmured, brushing hair away from his face. "How're you feeling?"

But the look in his eyes said it all. "I'm going home today…" Draco mumbled to himself, eyes suddenly going vacant. "Home…" Silver laced heavily with anxiety flashed sharply up. "Are they here yet? Do I have to go now? Is that why you woke me?"

I nodded sadly. "Someone arrived just as I was coming to see you."

"Is it Father?"

"I didn't see, but I'd imagine so."

Draco reacted to this with silence; he sat stiffly with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, biting his lip and staring helplessly out of the grimy window into our back yard. "Home…" he whispered again. "With Father…" A small escaped from Draco's lips and the little boy's head fell forwards onto his knees- hiding his face from sight in the blue and white stripped material.

There was absolutely no point in trying to reassure Draco that it was going to be okay or that things weren't going to be as bad as he expected them to be because I knew as well as he did that it would be meaningless.

But how else does one go about comforting a frightened eight year-old?

"Draco," I tried feebly. Reaching out a hand to touch his trembling shoulder. "Be brave, Dragon. Dragons are always brave…"

Draco glared at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Then I'm _not_ a dragon. I'm not brave, I'm scared and I _don't_ want to go home. I _won't_ go!" his voice was suddenly challenging. "I _won't_ go," repeated Draco fiercely. "You can't _make_ me!"

Those last few words took me quite by surprise; 'you can't make me'…as though _I_ was the one trying to force him to return to the tyrant he called Father.

"I have absolutely no intention of making you go anywhere." I told him quietly. "However," Draco's angry, frightened eyes were averted. "However, do you really think it wise to cross your father again? Do you actually believe for one moment, that he will simply step back and allow you to stay here, out of his reach and out of his influence?"

Draco shrugged petulantly, although he knew the answer better than anyone.

"Running away," I continued gently, "will only serve to cause you more grief and more pain than standing strong and facing him day to day."

My godson's stony expression crumbled and, once again, he buried himself in the comfort of his knees. "I can't!" wailed Draco miserably. "I _can't_ go back! Please Sir, _please_ don't make me! I'll do anything you say only…only…"

"Draco, for god sake!" I implored desperately. "Just calm down before you do yourself some serious damage and listen to me."

Draco took a few hiccupy breaths and nodded.

"Now," I held his teary gaze as I spoke, ensuring that I had his full attention. "I know you are scared- you have every reason to be- but if things get too out of hand and become too unbearable, I gave you that envelope, didn't I? And you can write whenever you want-"

"But it's not the _same_…"

"But it is the best we can do," I said firmly. "I have promised that I will come and see you as frequently as possible. I'm sorry Dragon, but there's nothing else I can do."

Draco sighed with disappointment. "I guess I knew that," he said quietly. "I guess if there was something else, you'd have done it already…"

"Something like that," I agreed. "Anyway, I'd better go and make sure that your father is in a reasonable mood." I rose, then said to Draco, "You come down whenever you're ready to; make sure you're okay and that you've got everything. Take your time."

Struggling to smile, but trying hard nonetheless, Draco nodded and, feeling reassured, I turned to leave. However, that feeling was short lived as, when the door closed behind me, I could hear the muffled, pitiful sound of Draco crying and it was all I could do to prevent myself from marching downstairs and telling Luciushim where he could go.

Perhaps if I was a stronger, stupider man, I would've…

* * *

I approached the living room with a strong combination of fierceness and determination- all ready to face Lucius who, I was certain, was as annoyed with me as I was with him over what had happened at Diagon Alley. So, imagine my surprise and slight disconcertion when I found not Lucius, but Narcissa- elegantly dressed in silk as if she were about to attend a party- sitting up straight on the sofa and small talk with my mother.

Both women turned as I skidded over the threshold and Narcissa rose gracefully to greet me.

"Hullo," she chimed, putting out a delicate hand for me to take. "How have you been?"

I clutched her hand briefly, still feeling bewildered. "I'm fine. Thank you. Yourself?"

"Better than usual, actually," she answered with a smile. "Shall we sit?"

Malfoys always seemed to be in the rather annoying habit of treating you as their guest…even if they are in your house.

"I have been thinking quite a lot about what you said to me the other day. About caring and such," explained Narcissa as we sat down. "And, after a great deal of deliberation, I came to the conclusion that, actually, I did. Or do. Care, I mean. Yes…" Her pretty face creased as she frowned, confused by her own words. "Anyway, what I mean to say is I may as well try, hadn't I?" Blue eyes flicked to me- seeking my agreement. "And if nothing worth while is achieved, at least I know that I have tried. There!" Narcissa exclaimed delightedly. "_That's _what I wanted to tell you! Well, what do you think, Severus? Is my plan a good one?"

I was, quite literally, lost for words. How could she _really_ expect to automatically become a good mother to Draco just because she suddenly had the inclination to _try_? How could she possibly hope to make up for all the years she's wasted when all she cares about and understood was herself? But, equally, at least the thought was there.

It was a small, almost insignificant start, but a start nonetheless.

"It's fine," I told her. "Just try to be there when Draco needs you and you'll make all the difference in the world."

"I can do that!" She laughed excitedly. "I don't really do much, so that'll be easy. Oh…" Narcissa's elated expression faded a little. "I hope that Lucius will let me…he's so very protective of Draco…maybe I'll talk to him and arrange some time to be there for Draco when it'll suit us both…"

Over the far side of the room, I could hear my mother trying to suppress a snigger.

"Narcissa," I said slowly- fighting to remain patient with her. "The whole _point_ is to be there when _Draco_ needs you- not when it suits you and _certainly_ not when it suits Lucius. If you are going to bother at all, bother for your son, not for yourself."

Narcissa simply stared at me- everything I had just said had clearly just gone straight over her immaculately groomed head. I'm pretty sure she was a very nice person…once you got passed the fact that she was so naturally self-obsessed. You couldn't criticize her, as irritating as it was, you had to just dismiss it as an unchangeable part of her personality,

"So, where's your husband?" I asked, changing track with some reluctance. "He seemed quite adamant that he wanted complete control over Draco so I'm surprised that he isn't here."

"Oh _that_," Narcissa smirked for the first time since I had known her. "Well," she explained smugly, "Lucius has been in just a foul mood ever since he came back from London and I decided it probably wouldn't be best if he was still in a temper when Draco came home because, obviously, he needs to settle back in, doesn't he? So I managed to persuade Lucius to…have a little holiday for a few days, whilst I hold the fort. So then he'll come back nice and relaxed, Draco will be happily settled in and we can all go back to normal!"

Her unrealistic optimism set my teeth on edge- in a way not dissimilar to when one eats something horrendously sweet- however, I had to admit that I was impressed by her planning.

"Where is Draco, by the way?" Narcissa asked suddenly, looked around as though she expected him to appear all of a sudden. "_Why_ isn't he here? He _should_ be here!"

I met my mother's eyes across the room and knew that she was thinking exactly the same thing as I was. She rolled her eyes discreetly, then said to the younger woman, "Draco wasn't feeling very well this morning. We thought it would do him some good if he slept on for a while,"

Narcissa's pretty face frowned deeply. "But Draco is not allowed to sleep after eight. He should be up! Get him up!"

Her piercing voice reminded me horribly of her sister- Bellatrix- an exceptionally unpleasant woman who, for various reason I wish to keep to myself, I was rather keen to forget.

"He'll come down in his own time and not before," my mother told Narcissa severely- whose eyes had suddenly taken on a rather mad look. The two women glared at each other; Narcissa because she was used to getting her own way and didn't like being told 'no', and my mother because she had no patience from people who thought themselves better than they were.

Narcissa, reluctantly backing down, pouted moodily. "I haven't got all day, you know," she said, sulking. "I have _business_ to attend to elsewhere." She said the word 'business' with an air of typical Malfoy haughtiness which she had obviously learnt from Lucius.

My mother- having taken a great disliking to the blonde woman- was not at all impressed. "What _business_?" she scoffed.

Narcissa pursed her painted lips and raised her chin. "There are things I need to purchase in London," she informed us. "Books that Draco is to learn from. Lucius gave me a list. He _trusts_ me to get them. Now, _fetch_ Draco!"

"I have told you already," my mother spoke though gritted teeth. "He will come down when _he_ is ready."

"How dare you keep him from me!" Narcissa all but shrieked, eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you deny me the right to see my son!"

"Oh shut up!" my mother snapped back. "You are a stupid, thoughtless woman who doesn't deserve a little boy like Draco. I feel sorry for him having to live with someone like you and if I had my way, he'd be taken away from you and your equally stupid husband for good!"

I sat as far back in my seat as I could, not wishing to be involved in their row. My mother was unstoppable when pushed too far.

"Don't you dare call my husband stupid!"

And so, it turned out, was Narcissa Malfoy.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Their fight was cut short as my father- his hand on a wide-eyed Draco's shoulder- appeared. He looked from them to me, frowning disapprovingly then repeated his question. But no one answered.

Draco shrank back, fearful as his mother rose- her eyes still wild- and stalked across to grab hold of his hand. "Come Draco, we're going shopping."

But my father's would not let him go so easily. "Here," he said gruffly. "You're not going just like that! We've looked after your lad well this last week and our Severus has put himself out quite a bit on his behalf, so I hear. So don't you come barging in, having a go at my wife and then snatch the boy away without so much as a thank you! I won't allow it."

"You won't _allow_ it?" Narcissa shrieked, outraged that she was being talked down to by a muggle (who, coincidentally, was a whole head taller than her). "You won't _allow_ me to take my own son back home to where he is supposed to be? I don't have to listen to this! You're all conspiring to take Draco away from me! You're trying to turn him against me! Well, I'm not having it!"

Trembling with anger, she jerked Draco out of my father's reach, making him stumble and almost fall, had she not had a tight hold on his arm. "Move it!" Narcissa hissed, snatching the bag from his hands and pushing him into the hall.

Casting one quick, frightened glance behind him, Draco had no choice but to leave in front of his mother as she stalked out of the house. The door slammed behind her, leaving my parents and I with a ringing in our ears and a Draco-less house. Wondering what in Merlin's name had just happened

* * *

**Some of the following has been obtained from the memory of Mr Draco L Malfoy of Malfoy Manor and has been used with the gracious consent of the aforementioned.**

_**S. Snape**_

* * *

Standing alone in the centre of the entrance hall, Draco clutched a small bag of clothes in one hand and a larger, much heavier bag filled with books in the other and stared helplessly around him at the uncomfortably familiar, yet strange and overbearing mansion he called home. The boy felt horribly small and insignificant in this vast, untouchable place, especially when he thought of the small, cosy place which he had just been snatched away from…

Blinking back tears, Draco thought back to the last few days; how different his whole life had been in that short space of time and how well he seemed to fit into that life. So much so that, foolishly, Draco had begin to forget that he didn't belong there and that, sooner or later, every dreamer has to come back to reality- no matter how dark or cold.

A sigh slipped pass his lips. He hadn't even been allowed to say goodbye. And things had obviously been left on bad terms, so Draco couldn't even count on being allowed to see Severus even if he did come soon…

Wincing at the heaviness of his load, Draco started the long, slow trek up to his room, grey eyes fixed determinedly on the deep, blood-red carpet as he padded along endless corridors and up stairs.

Draco's mother had been silent and moody in the car- speaking only to tell him that Father had gone to France for a couple of days but would return soon- and she had snapped a lot at the staff in Flourish and Blotts. Then, as soon as the car had pulled up in their drive, she had stormed into the house to hide herself away, leaving Draco on his own to sort himself out.

The boy set the books down on the ground as he reached for the handle to his bedroom and pushed the door wide open. Nothing had changed; the bed was unmade, the chair by the window still lay where it had fallen and the same smell of scared, desperate magic drifted around.

Draco's mouth went instantly dry, his palms went clammy and he could neither breathe nor move..

'_I know you kissed him,'_ an oily voice hissed in his ear. _'He told me how good you were, how much you liked it.'_

"N-no…" Draco squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could; not wanting to see, not wanting to know. "I-I-I didn't…it w-wasn't…"

'_Liar. You let him but you won't let me! He's only being nice because he wants to fuck you. You know that, don't you Draco?'_

The little boy whimpered, his heart pounding so hard in chest it hurt, as the ghost of a hand brushed against his cheek.

"Y-y-you're not r-real," stammered Draco, recoiling as much as he dared. "Sir said you…you wouldn't b-b-be here…"

The voice- cold and slippery- chuckled. _'Sir lied. He's lied to you before, yes? Many times. You're just too stupid to realise it.'_

Draco trembled, cold sweat making his damp. He could feel hands drifting over his immobile body and breath on his neck. But he couldn't look, couldn't open his eyes.

'_Now," _William Southard hissed. _'Are you going to lie down willingly like the little slut you are, or am I going to have you make you? Again?'_

Mind buzzing loudly with terror, Draco opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe…all he could feel were those hands touching him. Hurting him. And those words burning into his soul.

And then, out of nowhere, a different voice echoed through the boy's distorted, bewildered mind- _'If someone- anyone- tries to touch you in a way that you don't like, you run, Draco. Run to somewhere safe. Run!'_

Suddenly, he knew what to do, where to go. With a choked cry, Draco wrenched his eyes open and fled, skidding around corners in a wild panic until he found where he needed to be- the room where Severus had stayed in before everything began to go wrong. The only room in the entire house that held no bad memories.

Throwing his entire weight against the door and rushing in, Draco dived onto the bed, where he lay exhausted and badly shaken, able to do no more than lie there and gasp for breath.

As he stared blindly across at the door, a tear- just one- slid steadily down the little boy's cheek and pooled in his ear. Draco wanted _so_ much- and even half expected- for Severus to appear suddenly, like he always seemed to do, and to tell him that it was all going to work out fine and nobody could hurt him whilst he was there….but nobody came. Nobody cared.

Draco was alone once more.

* * *

A/N: ...youch...this chapter was the hardest thing, I think, I have ever written... -huggles Draco-. Anyway, in Part Five, Severus' narrative will be interspersed (sp?) with the 3rd person bits from Draco's PoV. I did have a little 'flash foward' in the middle of this chapter with Snape asking Draco's permission and Draco taking the mick, but when it came down to it, it was too jokey and ruined the seriousness of what had just happened :P Maybe I'll put it in later.

Hope everyone's having a half-decent holiday! It's tipping it down here :P But that's typical British weather for you, isn't it sigh!

Keep reading and reviewing!

Lily xxx


	32. Part Five 1

**_Part Five_**

This is a crazy world  
These can be lonely days  
It's hard to know who's on your side  
Most of the time

Who can you really trust?  
Who do you really know?  
Is there anybody out there  
Who can make you feel less alone?  
Some times you just can't  
make it on your own

If you need a place where you can run  
If you need a shoulder to cry on  
I'll always be your friend

When you need some shelter from the rain  
When you need a healer for your pain  
I will be there time and time again  
When you need someone to love you  
Here I am

If you have broken dreams  
Just lay them all on me  
I'll be the one who understands  
So take my hand

If there is emptiness  
You know I'll do my best  
To fill you up with all the love  
That I can show someone  
I promise you you'll never walk alone

Well if you need a place where you can run  
If you need a shoulder to cry on  
I'll always be your friend

When you need some shelter from the rain  
When you need a healer for your pain  
I will be there time and time again  
When you need someone to love you  
Here I am.

* * *

When upset, my mother turns to Dickens. Merlin knows why, but it's always been the case; whenever she and my father used to row, she would go off and lock herself in the toilet with _A Tale of Two Cities_ and refuse to come out. So, naturally, as soon as she had got over the initial shock of what had just happened, my mother stalked off without a word to me or my father, grabbed an old edition of _Great Expectations_ and slumped down in her favourite arm-chair with a scowl.

My father and I exchanged 'looks', both of which clearly said '_don't even bother trying to console her and do not expect tea tonight_'. We had both learnt the hard way just to leave her alone when she was in this sort of mood.

We stood together, the need to speak was great but we were unable to express our feelings about what had just happened to one another. Although it had clearly upset my father as much as anyone else.

There was so much more I had wanted to say to Narcissa and to Draco too…although I can't think what I would've said that I hadn't already. But anything would have been better than nothing. I had, of course, always been very much aware of Lucius' temper and how unreasonable _he_ could be, but never in a thousand years would I have thought that Narcissa could be capable of the same! She had always been so…so quiet and unobtrusive. Quite the opposite of how she had been today.

I wondered, with slight amusement, whether Lucius was aware of how forceful his wife could actually be at times…

I jumped- out of habit more than anything else- as I felt my father put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, murmuring, "Sorry lad," with obvious awkwardness.

Just as when my mother had kissed me, I was taken aback with astonishment. Even though I knew that he was only talking about Draco and what had happened no more than five minutes ago, that word- earnestly spoken and evidently heartfelt- meant more to me than anything he had said to me in the last…eighteen years or so. A long time, anyway.

I nodded, unwilling to touch him also. "Thank you," I told him, looking at me feet. "For helping with Draco. I'm sure he appreciates it."

"Hmm."

My father's arm fell limply to his side and he sighed deeply with a shake of his head. "Funny little thing, that kid was," he mused. Then his black eyes turned to me with interest, "What're you gonna do now then?"

My eyebrow couldn't help but twitch with surprise- first an apology now an interest in my life…had I entered a parallel universe unknowingly?

"I have a job," I told him. "Teaching at my old school."

"The wizard one?"

"No, the muggle one." The sarcastic retort came automatically and my father's eyes narrowed. "Yes, the wizard one. I'm taking over as Potions Master and head of Slytherin."

I may as well have been speaking Portuguese as the only thing my father could say to that was, "Well paid?"

"Relatively speaking."

"Good for you, Severus. I'm…I'm glad you're making something of yourself."

"Yeah…"

Silence stretched before us, broken only by the sound of turning pages coming from the living room. I couldn't be bothered to even try to make conversation with a man who had, up to that point, made my life more than slightly unpleasant, and all I really wanted to do was to dash straight over to Malfoy Manor- for my own peace-of-mind as much as for Draco.

But that was most definitely out of the question. I hoped that Narcissa had calmed down. I hoped that Draco would be able to adjust to being back at home. And I hoped, more than anything, that Lucius would at least _try_…

But when I have I ever got what I wanted?

* * *

"Do you want to cook tonight, or shall I go down to the chippy?"

My mother had not left her chair and was only halfway through her book, so we had been banished to the kitchen. I had already drafted several letters- all of them pointless, meaningless and downright ridiculous. I had no idea _what_ I wanted to say, what point I was trying to make or even what tone I wanted it to take.

"I'm not cooking," I said flatly, throwing my pen down in disgust. "And whenever _you_ go, you always come back with an impending hang-over instead of food. I'll do it." I unhooked my jacket from the back of my chair. "Make sure mum's okay."

As is often the case, a cold blast of night air managed to clear my head. I trudged along the river, hands thrust deep into my pockets with my collar pulled up around my neck.

My problem, I realised as I looked down at the grimy water, is that I was trying to be too profound, too deep, about the whole situation, when in fact something much simpler would be the most effective and the most useful.

I had been trying so hard for so long to say precisely the right thing, that common sense had completely eluded me!

* * *

_My dearest Draco,_

_I hope that you are okay and that you are settling in well. Your mother promised me- of her own accord, I hasten to add- that she will look out for you and try harder to protect you from your father. I suggest, however, that you regularly remind her of that as she may forget. On the subject of your mother, I am sorry that things got so out of hand this evening but I assure you that it had nothing to do with you. It was simply a disagreement._

_My parents are very upset that you had to leave so quickly as they both care very much about you and would have liked the chance to say goodbye properly. If you ever need something and, for some reason, can't get in touch with me, they would be more than happy to help you out to the best of their ability and they have assured me that you are welcome at Spinner's End any time you want._

_I hope that things settle down with your father too. I know for a fact that he loves you very much and only wants what's best for you, even though it may not seem like it at times. I have seen you stand up to him, so I know you are strong even though I am aware that it will not always be possible to do so. However I think it would be a good thing to remind your father, on occasion, that you are your own person and not simply an extension of himself._

_Do your best and work hard, as I know you will, and remember that I'm always thinking about you._

_Mother sends her love and I remain, as ever, faithfully yours,_

_Severus Snape 'Sir'._

* * *

_**7**__**th**__** July 1988**_

Heavy curtains of thick, green material were drawn tightly over the diamond-paned window- prohibiting any light from brightening the small room. Neither sound nor movement disturbed the almost stifling stillness, aside from the slow, uneven breathing of Draco.

Staring listlessly across the room, he lay on his side- thinking about nothing and feeling nothing…everything would be fine, Draco had realised, as long as he didn't leave this room. No one could hurt him here.

The boy's eyelids drooped. He hadn't eaten anything since he had returned home and that, coupled with the fact that he hadn't slept properly for over a week, meant that Draco was completely exhausted and unfit to do anything more than lay there.

Moaning weakly from the pains that were shooting through his stomach and head, Draco rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. In the distance, he could vaguely make out people talking…arguing, even.

With a sigh, Draco curled up; he didn't care. All he wanted was to be left alone to sleep…

* * *

"You were _supposed_ to be looking after him!" Lucius Malfoy thundered at his wife as they stood outside the locked door to the room in which their son had, somehow, barricaded himself.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that," Narcissa shouted back furiously, "when I have no way of getting in? It isn't _my_ fault he won't come out!"

Smouldering, Lucius tried the handle again; jiggling it violently. Then, when that did no good, he rapped loudly on the mahogany. "Draco! Open this door right now!"

Silence answered him.

Muttering all kinds of curses and swearwords, Lucius turned- seething- back to his wife, who folded her harms across her satin covered chest and looked back at him smugly. "Two days, you say?"

"Yes."

"And he hasn't eaten or drank anything in that time?"

"That is correct."

"Then why the hell didn't you owl me?" He was passed anger now. A dangerous combination of worry about Draco, fury at his idiotic wife and disappointment in himself for being stupid enough to allow Narcissa to take control boiled up inside him- making his jaw clench and his hands to ball into fists. _'Don't lose it!'_ he told himself severely.

"I didn't owl you," said Narcissa in an infuriatingly calm manner, "because I didn't want to worry you. You went away because you needed to calm down and I thought that Draco would come out eventually-"

"But he hasn't!" If he had sworn never to hit a woman, Lucius would have certainly lashed out now. "Goddamn it Narcissa! He could be dead in there, for all you know! Have you no common sense?"

Narcissa caught her painted lip sharply between two, pearly white teeth and looked up at her husband mournfully. "I'm sorry…"

"And why isn't he in his own room?"

She looked down at her feet, fighting back tears. Lucius had never spoken to her like this before…of course, she knew about his temper but never had she imagined that it would be directed at her! "I…I don't know," she whispered.

"Don't you know anything?" snarled Lucius, standing imposingly over her. "You're his mother! It's your _business_ to know!"

Narcissa's pretty face crumpled. "Stop shouting at me!"

"Oh for _god_ sake…" Lucius muttered irritably. "Look, if you refuse to be helpful, I suggest you go away and leave me to clear up the mess you've made."

Glaring at him, Narcissa sniffed, "Fine!" and flounced off.

Lucius scowled at her back, sincerely wishing that his wife hadn't decided suddenly to 'make an effort'. He liked her much better when she wasn't trying to _do_ anything. When he was sure that she had gone, Lucius hammered once again on the door. "Draco? If you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm blasting it apart!"

"Don't even think about it, boy!"

Lucius whirled around to face the person who would _dare_ to call him 'boy' and came face-to-paint with his great, great, great etc. grand-father Casuvius.

"I beg your pardon?"

Casuvius glared squarely down at his descendant. "Are you completely mundane?" he snapped at a very taken-aback Lucius. "You cannot go around exploding doors that are worth more than most properties! It's an outrage to even suggest such a thing!" The long-dead Malfoy drew himself up importantly and told Lucius, "You ought to be hung."

Lucius' eyes narrowed and his raised his pale chin. "Might I remind you," he responded smoothly, "that I could have you burned much easier than you could have me hung." He bowed sardonically. "Now, if you'll excuse me?"

Drawing his wand out of the inner pocket of his robes, Lucius and turned back to the door.

"No!" howled Casuvius, beside himself with hysteria. "Idiot! Dim-witted fool! Dolt who has hippogriff droppings for brains! Don't even think about it! Your boy's fooling around! He isn't worth it! Think of the expense!" The portrait was practically sobbing now. "**The **_**expense**_**!"**

Pointedly ignoring the abuse that was being hurled in his direction, Lucius raised his wand high in the air and- with some regret and an apology to his forbears- spoke the incantation, "_Confringo!_"

The door, much to Casuvius' dismay, was promptly blasted off its hinges in a cloud of dust and splinters. Covering his mouth with one hand and his eyes with the other, Lucius fought his way through the debris and smoke and into the room. _'Severus' room,'_ he realised with a certain amount of derision.

* * *

The sudden explosion hadn't fazed Draco in the slightest; his tired, confused mind could barely even process the fact that there was no longer any door.

Distantly, he could hear somebody speaking his name over and over…then a cool hand brushed away his damp fringe and was pressed against his burning forehead. A muffled order was spoken, then repeated- "Open your eyes for me."- Father, Draco realised wearily.

Desperately trying to obey, Draco struggled to force his heavy eyelids open. Strong hands slipped underneath his frail body and pulled him into a sitting position. Two fingers were placed gently beneath his chin and Draco's head was tilted up. The boy made no sound of protest nor tried to move away.

* * *

He was grey, Lucius realised with a sharp pang of worry, not simply pale, but grey…Lucius' eyes continued to sweep over his son; taking in the sheen of sweat on Draco's face; his dry, cracked lips; his vacant, lifeless eyes…

"Oh god, Draco…" he whispered, heart pounding hard in his chest. What the hell was the matter with him? Was being home really this bad? Did Draco hate it so much that he prepared to allow himself to become so poorly?

Fortunately, Lucius was able to curb the panic before it overcame him completely. "Right," he muttered to himself, gathering his wits. "First thing's first; Dobby!"

A loud _pop!_ signalled the arrival of the house-elf- an odious creature who Lucius despised whole-heartedly but who was, regretfully, necessary.

The elf bowed deeply, long ears flopping onto the ground. "Master called?" it squeaked. "Master has orders for Dobby?"

"_Obviously_," snapped Lucius, wishing dearly that he had a free hand to smack the damnable creature with. "Bring me a goblet of water and something that's easy to eat."

Dobby cocked his head to one side. "Easy to eat, sir?" Dobby is not knowing-"

"Just do it!" Lucius bellowed, finally giving into the overwhelming temptation and lashing out with a fist. But Dobby was too quick and managed to disappear before it hit him.

* * *

His father's angry voice cut sharply through the low buzzing in Draco ears, awakening his senses abruptly; the room swam into focus and the sounds that had originally been no more than distant whispers were now as clear as a newly cut diamond.

Draco was now uncomfortably aware of his father's hands. One tucked around his shoulders, supporting his weight as the other stroked his hair methodically. The boy sighed a little; half of him was deliriously happy and longed to just stay like this forever. And the other half internally flinched with every breath that his father took and desperately wanted to wrench himself away from the hands that were holding him.

Not wanting his father to realise that he had awoken, Draco closed his eyes again and forced himself to relax. The pain both internally and physically had in no way lessoned and he was sure that his father would try to move him if he showed any sign of consciousness.

* * *

'_What the hell am I going to do?'_ Lucius wondered fretfully as he absently stroked his son's damp hair. Never before had he felt so bloody helpless and downright incompetent as he did now! This situation was exactly what he had wanted to avoid; he had no idea how to deal with this kind of thing, there was no logic involved, no straightforward answer… his boy was ill, _seriously_ ill and he didn't know what to do. To be quite honest, Lucius Malfoy had never felt so scared in his life.

And what on earth was he supposed to say to Draco if and when he _did_ recover? It was only right that they should discuss it on some level at least, if only to ensure that it did not happen again. But what if _here_ was the cause? Or Lucius himself? What then?

Why couldn't everything just go back to how it was, like he had planned? Everything was simple and everyone knew their place. _That_ was how it was supposed to be when Draco came back; no time for reminiscing and regretting, no change in behaviour from anyone, just straight forward getting on with their lives. It hadn't seemed unreasonable to ask that, after all, didn't the so-called 'Professionals' always say that when a child has suffered some sort of trauma, it's always best not to treat them any differently?

Lucius could hear Severus' infuriating response to that- _'That's assuming that they were treated right in the first place.'_ Well, what did he know? Lucius thought with a vengeance. What made him such a bloody authority? It was all his fault this was happening anyway, if he hadn't messed around with Draco's head in the first place, Lucius wouldn't have had to fire him and so there would have been no need to bring William Southard into the equation and everything would be how it should be.

'_**And where is that bloody useless house-elf?'**_

As though hearing his master's furious thoughts, Dobby appeared out of nowhere, carrying a tray laden with a crystal beaker of water, three chocolate digestives, some sort of soup and a small bowl filled with ice-cream.

"Dobby begs Master's forgiveness, but Dobby could think of what was 'easy to eat'." The elf bowed apologetically, a good foot out of reach, and placed the silver tray carefully on the floor, his tennis-ball eyes never leaving Lucius as he waited fir further instruction.

Draco felt something cool being pressed against his cracked lips, accompanied by the order, "Sit up for me, Draco. You need to drink."

Grimacing with pain, Draco allowed himself to be propped up a little more as his father pushed the crystal more insistently into his mouth and tipped it slightly so that the water could trickle between his lips and down his parched throat. Coughing hard, Draco doubled over weakly as his empty stomach protested at having something forced into it.

"Better?" his father asked, rubbing Draco's back in a meagre attempt to make the boy more comfortable.

Gasping and spluttering, Draco shook his head miserably. "O-ow…"

"It hurts because you haven't eaten," said his father sombrely, handing the vessel back to the waiting elf. "You've made yourself ill."

The little boy gave a weak moan, unable to reply, and tried to hunch himself up in order to ease the shooting pains. But Lucius placed one hand at the base of Draco's back and the other on his shoulder and pushed him to sit up straight. "You must eat something," came the impassive voice. "And you cannot do it like that. Sit up properly."

Now that his father had realised that he was not at death's door, Draco noticed- with regret- that the care and gentleness with which he was being handled with, was now reverting back to the firm, slightly impatient treatment that he had come to expect from his father.

Draco managed to take the biscuit that Lucius held out for him and father and son sat silently as Draco nibbled on it tentatively. Now that his son was awake, Lucius couldn't bring himself to touch or hold the boy as he had done, it was too awkward. Too much against his nature…

'_What happened?'_ Lucius wanted to ask. _'How do I help?'_ But he simply couldn't bring himself to say it. To ask would mean that he would have to involve himself and act upon it. Which, in turn, would mean that things would not be able to return to how it should be. He would have to change then nothing would go to plan…

As gently as he could manage, Lucius eased his little boy off his lap and stood. "Eat that," he told Draco, gesturing to the tray. "Dobby will help you come down when you are finished. We will speak then."

Then, refusing to noticed the disappointment in Draco's eyes, he turned on his heel and strode out of the shattered door

* * *

A/N: Greetings once again and Happy September 1st :P Good luck everyone going back to school and for those starting college (like meeee!) Well done everyone who got their results

I admit that I am more than slightly disapointed with the response from the last chapter; I worked very hard on it but only a few people bothered to review. But I'm not going to moan. All I am going to say is **I write for myself and I update for you**.

Let me know what you think- good or bad- and you will hold a special place in my multi-storey heart :)

Thank you everyone who has given me their time, chocolate mousse cake for you guys!

Hearts and huggles, Lily xxx


	33. Part Five 2

_**9**__**th**__** July 1988**_

"Why hasn't he written back?" I stormed for what had to be the fiftieth time in the last few days. "It's been over four days and he hasn't replied!"

"Even if you say it a thousand times," my mother sighed as she watched me pace up and down the length of our small kitchen, "it is _not_ going to change a thing."

I ignored her and continued my pointless journey, muttering incoherently beneath my breath. I desperately wanted to apparate straight to Wiltshire and find out what was going on. But then again, I was pretty certain that my interference would not be tolerate by either of the Malfoy parents so soon after their son's return.

"Oh for god sake Severus!" snapped my mother, slamming her hand down on the wooden surface of the table. "Your pacing's giving me a headache! Draco's probably been busy settling in, getting back into a routine…that kind of thing. Stop being so paranoid!"

"_Paranoid_?" I whirled angrily around to face her. "You've certainly changed your tune! _'If I had my way he'd be taken away from you and your equally stupid husband for good' _you said! And now you're perfectly comfortable with the fact that Draco has been back home for several days and has not been in contact with me, with _us_!" My hands, by this point, were being waved around dramatically. "How can you _not_ be concerned?"

My mother's dark eyes narrowed and she folded her arms moodily across her chest. "I never said I wasn't concerned," she muttered, fingers drumming on the table in a _most_ irritating fashion. "I merely suggested that, perhaps, Draco has had other, more important things, on his mind."

I glared at her. "You called me paranoid…"

"Your _are_!" she insisted. "You _always_ assume the worst-"

"Can you _blame_ me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing! "You've _seen_ how they treat him! You've _seen_ the bruises on Draco's body!" My mother lowered her head as I ranted at her. "Of _course_ I assume the worst! The last time Draco was left to the mercy of his idiotic parents, they allowed a paedophile into the house!"

I saw my mother shudder slightly and her long, dark hair fell in a heavy curtain about her face. For once, like me, her conscience was hurting.

"I won't go," I conceded grimly. "I won't interfere, but I _am_ going to write again and if I do not receive a reply before I leave for Hogwarts, I'm going over there to find out why."

* * *

_My dearest Draco,_

_Are you okay? How is everything? I hope that you are settling in well and that your parents aren't trying to push you too hard. I am starting my new job soon, but I promise to try and drop in on you before I leave._

_Please please write back so that I don't have to worry about you even if it's just to let me know that you've received this letter and that you aren't dead…_

_Don't forget: Keep the envelope in a safe place so that you know it's there for when you need it._

_I remain, as ever, faithfully yours,_

_Severus Snape, 'Sir'._

* * *

Glasses perched on the very tip of his nose, Lucius' grey eyes scanned the two letters that were set of before him with a contemptuous sneer. The bloody nerve of that wretched, interfering man!

'_I think it would be a good thing,_' he read with pursed lips. _'to remind your father that you are your own person and not simply an extension of himself.'_

Lucius read this with a derisive snort; as though Draco would have the nerve to remind him of _anything_! True enough, Lucius had been shocked at how wild Draco had been in Diagon Alley, but that was simply due to the fact that they had been in public and he had known that the consequences of disobedience would be less severe than they would be in private.

But Draco was home now, back where he should be and Lucius would quickly put an end to any thoughts of rebellion should they arise.

"Stupid man…" he muttered to himself, carefully refolding the first letter and slipping it back into its envelope, before turning his attention to the second, much shorter one.

"Drivel," Lucius thought dismissively. "Nothing but pointless drivel."

He was about to tear the useless thing up and discard it entirely, when one sentence caught his attention- '_Don't forget: Keep the envelope in a safe place so that you know it's there for when you need it'_

Folding his glasses and placing them on his desk, Lucius sat back in his chair; Now, this _was_ interesting…

* * *

Pulse racing, palms sweaty, Draco walked as slowly as he could down the endlessly long corridor to his father's study.

He had not seen his father since the incident with the door as Draco had been permitted to rest for a few days, providing he ate what the house-elf brought him. But this morning, breakfast had been accompanied by a message from Draco's father;

"Master requires Master Draco to visit him in his study at eleven thirty," Dobby told him as the boy ate his porridge. "And Master Draco is to look presentable."

And so, after Dobby at fetched the appropriate clothes from Draco's rooms, the morning had been spent making the young Malfoy look presentable for his father. That meant the black robes with the silver clasp which Draco had received for his birthday, a clean, white shirt, black silk trouser and a tie…Draco couldn't tie a tie for the life of him and had fumbled around for a good quarter of an hour before the house-elf came to his rescue.

Unconsciously biting his lip, Draco approached the forbidding oak door at the end of the passage-way with ever increasing reluctance. He _knew_ that he wasn't in trouble, the little boy reasoned as he hovered outside. So it was completely ridiculous to be afraid…unfortunately, his shaking legs did not seem to comprehend this logic.

Draco took a deep breath, steeling himself, and knocked once on the door.

At first, there was no answer but Draco could not bring himself to knock a second time. Then, eventually, his father's voice came filtering though the wood, "Enter."

Hands pressed flat against the dark wooden panels, Draco pushed hard and let himself in.

His father's study was the only room in the Manor that the house-elves were not permitted to clean and no one- not even the minister of magic, or his mother or anyone in the world- was allowed to even set a foot in there without Draco's father's permission. Draco himself had only been in there a couple of times- once just after Severus had gone away and the other during the period in which he had stopped talking…Draco didn't really care to remember that.

The boy's blue-grey eyes scanned the little room curiously; the waste-paper basket was overflowing with discarded documents and letter, the bookshelves were filled to the point of bursting and there was not an inch of space left on the antique desk- an extremely large piece of furniture which was as old as the house itself- that hadn't been already covered with parchment or spare quills or books or bottles of ink and all manner of other things that were essential for Draco's father to have around him at all times.

Draco took in a deep breath; the room smelled of old leather from the books, pine from the furniture and a comforting blend of cinnamon and fireweed honey from his father.

Like its occupant, the compact study was enticing yet forbidding, fascinating but incredibly dangerous…and the power contained in such a small space made Draco give a little shudder of nervous delight.

Lucius watched- his pale face expressionless- as Draco crept into the room, pushed the door quietly shut behind him and stood with his back against the wall- hands clasped behind his back, head bowed- and waited to be told what to do.

'_He always looks so miserable…'_ Lucius thought with a frown, taking a moment to watch his son. He found it almost impossible to imagine that the pathetic little creature standing before him was the same happy, vivacious boy that Severus was always going on about. _'When was the last time I saw him smile?'_

Clearing his throat, Lucius gestured to an ornate chair on the other side of the desk. "Sit down," he said to the waiting boy.

Without raising his eyes from the carpet, Draco obeyed silently and shuffled onto the seat- feet dangling an inch above the ground..

"How're you feeling?" enquired Lucius, feeling that that was as good a place as any to begin. "Better?"

Draco gave a faint nod, studying his hands.

"You certainly don't look as terrible as you did," the elder Malfoy continued uncomfortably. "It's probably because you're eating again…" his voice trailed hopelessly off.

Man and boy sat with a wall of silence- as dense and as immovable as one made of brick- between them. Hands hidden from the other beneath the desk, they both fidgeted uneasily.

"I think," Lucius said finally, "that there are some things that you and I need to discuss. Yes?"

Draco made no response and continued to knot his fingers together.

"Draco, look at me." Leaning forward, Lucius snapped his fingers right in front of his son's face, making the little boy flinch. "I am _trying_ to talk to you properly," the man continued, once he had Draco's attention. "And I need to know what is going on in your head so that I can determine the appropriate way forward."

Lucius sighed loudly as Draco stared, blank eyed, back at him; this was _ridiculous_! What in Merlin's name did Severus see in the boy?

"Talk!" Lucius commanded. "Tell me your thoughts! Why are you so _bloody_ unhappy? Why won't you look at me? Damn it Draco!" The little boy cringed as his father's hand was slammed down upon the dark wooden surface. "I am _trying_ to help you! Talk to me!"

All fidgeting ceased the second his father had raised his voice and Draco sat frozen in his seat- heart pounding, mind buzzing.

"I-I…umm…" he stammered. He had to talk. Father had told him to, He had to obey…disobedience resulted in punishment…but his throat refused to work and besides, Draco didn't even know what he was supposed to be talking about. Draco's eyes flicked pleadingly to his father's. "Please…" he managed to whisper. "I-I don't…I don't know…"

This was _not_ how Lucius had wanted this meeting to go; Draco was _supposed_ to be appreciative of Lucius' efforts to make him feel better and there he was, looking as frightened as he did when he was in serious trouble.

Lucius- as a rule- detested having to tip-toe around people, but it seemed as though they would never get anywhere unless he kept his temper in check.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Lucius spoke carefully to his son, "I am not trying to test you," he assured the boy. "It's just…" Unable to find the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, the Malfoy patriarch sighed heavily. "I'm your _father_, Draco. It is my duty to ensure that you are okay and to find out what the matter is when you aren't."

Draco's blonde head drooped so that his chin touched his chest.

"And you _obviously_ aren't," Lucius continued, hands resting on the desk in front of him. "It was completely irresponsible of me to leave you in the care of your mother and I have no idea what she did to you to make you hide away-"

"It wasn't Mother," whispered Draco into his collar. "It wasn't her fault…she didn't do anything."

This information did not please Lucius in the slightest. If Narcissa wasn't the cause, that meant it was something else. And if it was something else…

"Then _what_?" Lucius pressed, almost afraid to ask and earnestly dreading the answer he would receive.

But Draco just sat there- biting his lip and looking down at his hands- the picture of unhappiness. "I can't," he managed to whisper eventually. "You said…in your letter…it's not to be spoken of again."

"Draco for god sake! Just say it!"

The little boy raised his eyes slightly to meet his father's; expression pleading. "Father please…he's there, in my room…"

Lucius' whole body went rigid; this was _not_ happening! Draco had _not_ just said that, it was _completely_ ridiculous! As far as Lucius Malfoy was concerned, _That_ never happened and _He_ never existed.

"Everyone kept saying that he'd gone, that he'd never be able to…to do what he done again," Draco continued fretfully. "And…and it said in your letter that he'd gone, but-"

"No!"

Draco froze and shut his mouth instantly. Lucius' face was livid and his grey eyes dangerously stormy.

"No," he repeated through gritted teeth. "No 'buts'. _That _is over and never to be brought up again."

Draco stared up at his father disbelievingly- not understanding. He had thought that his father had _wanted_ to know what the problem was... and now he wasn't allowed to talk about it!

Not knowing how on earth he should continue, Draco sat stiffly in his seat- eyebrows knitted together in confusion and fiddled restlessly with the cuffs on his shirt, not daring to speak another word until he knew precisely what he was permitted to say and what he wasn't.

Lucius thought long and hard about how this should be handled; his initial response was, naturally, to dismiss the boy's fears as ridiculous. After all, William Southard couldn't _possibly_ be in Draco's bedroom, Lucius had made sure of that. But on the other hand, nothing positive would come of doing nothing, especially as this had been the cause of Draco _literally_ starving himself for three days...

Coming to a reasonable conclusion, Lucius sat forward and spoke slowly, taking his time. "If we talk about this now," he offered, looking his son directly in the eye, "you must give me your word that we will never discuss this again, do I make myself clear?" He noted the hesitation that crossed Draco's expression. "It must never interfere in your work, in our lives or anything else. If I allow you to talk about it now, it must never even be thought of again. Understand?"

The little boy nodded hesitantly- not really understanding but at the same time realising that there was no room for compromise.

"Very well." Lucius spoke as though he were in a meeting; dealing with adults and political issues rather than his own son who was having serious problems. "I shall begin my making something quite plain; William Southard is _not_ in your room. I shan't go into the details, but I have ensured that he will never go near you again."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, "But Father-"

"I don't know what went on in your bedroom," the elder Malfoy continued over his son, "but whatever it was, it wasn't real. It was all in your mind."

"But I _felt_ him!" Draco protested, forgetting his manners. The outrage he felt at the suggestion that it had all been in his head made him bolder, less cautious. "I swear I did! He was talking in my ear- whispering things- and I _felt_ him! I'm not making it up, Father! I wouldn't!"

"I never said that you were making it up!" Lucius snapped back, annoyed at his son's tone. "I said that it is in your head! _He_ no longer exists, therefore he can neither whisper things nor touch you. Why don't you go up and see for yourself?"

The thought of even setting foot into that room again turned Draco's blood ice-cold and Lucius noticed, with tiny pang of guilt, how white his son had suddenly turned.

"If it makes you feel better," said Lucius with a sigh. "You needn't go in there again. Your mother and I were discussing it anyway and we both agreed that, now you're getting older, you ought to have a larger room. You'll be working hard from now onwards and will be spending a lot of time in there. I don't want you getting ill from claustrophobia."

Draco's expression brightened considerably at this news- deeply relieved that his father wasn't going to force him into going back in _there_ and hugely grateful for the consideration.

"I was thinking," the man continued, "that you could move into the West Tower. It is quite a walk, but you will have both space and peace to work in. Of course, you will have to allow more time to get from there to where you need to be in the mornings and any other time you are required but I will tolerate a certain amount of lateness until you get used to the distance."

The little boy- unable to contain himself- grinned widely, showing gaps where milk-teeth had fallen out. "Thanks," he murmured shyly. "I-I'm really grateful."

Unused to having such delight aimed directly at him- particularly from Draco- Lucius coughed and shifted in his seat, before nodding brusquely, "Good. I'll have the house-elves send your things up to the tower sometime during the day."

"Thank you Father."

"Yes. Well...it's only right. Anyway, that isn't the only thing I have to talk to you about." Lucius drew himself up and raised his chin, noticing how his son's brilliant smile faded somewhat. "As I am sure you are aware, during the next few years, you will be studying and preparing for the entrance exam which will allow you to attend Durmstrang Institute of Wizardry. You _are_ going there, so I suggest that you get any notion of Hogwarts out of your head now."

With a small sigh, Draco nodded half-heartedly.

"The exam will not be simple," continued Lucius firmly. "You will be required to be competent in many areas and be able to use a wand confidently. In retrospect, it is probably a good thing that I am taking responsibility for your education from now on as, this way, I will make sure that you know what you are supposed to and ensure that you _do not fail_."

Those last three words were spoken with such force and conviction that it actually made Draco shrink down in his seat- the notion of failure instantly erased from his mind.

"You _will_ work hard, you _will_ do precisely what I tell you to and you _will_ be punished if you fail to obey. However, it will be worth it in the end."

"Yes Father," Draco whispered automatically- seriously doubting it; how could being sent to a foreign school where he didn't even want to go _possibly_ be worth it? But what choice did he have? His father had already made his mind up and Draco knew as well as anyone that when Lucius Malfoy had made up his mind about something, not even rampaging hippogriffs could sway him.

"We start tomorrow," said Lucius curtly, picking up his glasses and fiddling idly with them. "If you want a head start, I suggest browsing through the books that your mother purchased. Breakfast is at eight, although you may have five minutes to be late." He waved a hand imperiously in the direction of the door, "You may go."

Deeply relieved that he was being released- his legs were beginning to ache terribly from dangling in the air for so long- Draco was about to slide from his seat, when his father stopped him, "Draco,"

Suppressing a sigh, Draco sat down again. "Yes Father?"

"A letter for you, before I forget," Lucius picked up one of the many envelopes which littered his work space and held it, unhurriedly, out to his son. Draco reached out with one, small hand, and took it from his father's fingers. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the handwriting which adorned the front.

Unable to mask his delight, Draco's fingers traced his address before turning it over. His grey eyes flicked questioningly to his father's face as he noticed that the seal had already been broken, but Lucius simply stared back unashamedly with a very faint shrug and Draco knew better than to mention it.

As Draco read, the tightness in his chest was relieved considerably but it was replaced by an almost painful yearning. He longed desperately to back at Spinner's End with the people who were kind to him, who treated him like a child instead of a pet and, most importantly, who he could feel comfortable around without having to worry about behaving like a perfect Malfoy...

Draco bit his lip and read it over again- as though, by never taking his eyes off the paper, he'd be automatically transported back..._'I don't belong here,'_ the little boy realised unhappily. Why couldn't he have stayed where he was wanted and where he fit in, instead of the cold, impersonal Manor with his cold, uncaring parents? They didn't _really_ want him- at least, not in the way that Severus and his mother and father did- and Draco didn't want to be here, so what was the point?

But, stealing a glance up at his father, Draco knew that that would never happen. As much as he hated it, Draco belonged here, this was his life and no amount of wishing would ever change that.

An overwhelming sense of hopelessness washed through the young boy's small body, making him shudder and grip the paper so tightly in his hands that it almost ripped. Tears burned his eyes, making it almost impossible to see anything, but Draco blinked them back fiercely. He _wouldn't_ cry! Like Sir said, he had to be strong to survive and Draco was determined not to give in. If this was how things had to be, then he'd simply have to make the best of it.

'_I'll show Father how good a Malfoy I can be!'_ he promised himself with a resolve that surprised even him. _'I will not let them break me!'_

Lucius watched with interest as his son read the letter; happiness changed quickly to despondency then to utter helplessness and then a look crossed Draco's face- one which Lucius had only even seen once before on his pitiable son; an intense determination coupled with a fierce stubbornness. The same look that had appeared in Diagon Alley...

Steel-grey eyes narrowing, Lucius pursed his lips; this would not do. Any form of wilfulness would _not_ be tolerated. But, the man thought with a thin smile, let Draco test his boundaries; let him see just how far the chain will stretch. Children, of course, are curious...but they learn quickly that if they touch a boiling kettle, they will always be burned.

"I presume," said Lucius, "that a reply is expected?"

"Yes," Draco looked stoically up at his father- almost challenging. It took all of Lucius' self-restraint not to drag the little brat over and slap the impertinence out of him immediately.

Instead, he gave his son a hard look before picking up a quill and a document he had been working on. "Do it, then. The house-elves will have your room ready in an hour."

Bowing quickly, Draco half-walked, half-ran to the door, wrenched it open and sped straight to the library- heart pounding with terrified excitement at his own audacity.

With a secret smile- which could easily have been mistaken for a smirk- Draco sat down to write his reply.

* * *

_Dear Sir,_

_I'm alright, thank you. Better than I was, anyway. When I got home, Dr Southard was in my room-Father says it was all in my head, but I'm not so sure- and I could hear him and feel him and everything, but I did what you told me to do and I ran away. To your room, I mean, not out of the house. Father says that I can stay in the West Tower rather than my old room, so he shouldn't bother me again._

_I don't need Mother to protect me from Father because I decided that I can look after myself. You said that I should remind Father that I am my own person, so that's what I'm going to do. I figured that I'm stuck here and there's nothing that I can do about that, so I may as well make the best of it. I'm going to show him how strong I can be and that I can stand up to him, like I did the other day. I'm not going to be weak or scared anymore because there isn't any point and nobody cares anyway. _

_We're starting studying for Durmstrang tomorrow. Father says it's going to be really hard but it'll be worth it in the end but I don't really understand how it'll be worth it when I don't even want to go to Durmstrang...I want to go to Hogwarts, with you, and you don't even need to take an exam to get in there! Why does Father want me to go to Durmstrang so bad? _

_Please say thank you to your mother and father for having me. I had a really really good time!_

_Please visit soon!_

_Draco._

* * *

A/N: First of all, Thank you so so much to everyone who has reviewed for the first time! It's so nice to hear from new people :) And of course, cookies to all my loyal readers!! Your time and words are always deeply appreciated!

And this chapter is dedicated to my friend Simone (harry potter princess H) who- somehow- managed to get me Alan Rickman's autograph! I heart you Monee!!

Please keep up the good work guys and I promise to update soon!

Oh by the way, I have just got a laptop (Yay!) which has a web cam and I was thinking about doing a video blog or something to that effect :) My Youtube name is (predictably) LadyLilyMalfoy, if anyone wants to go check it out...

Huggles and Ice-cream! Lily xxx


	34. Part Five 3

_**10**__**th**__** July 1988**_

"Late, Draco," said Lucius curtly over the top of his newspaper as Draco entered the dining room.

His father's irritation did not faze Draco in the slightest. In fact, the boy acted as though he hadn't been spoken to at all and simply proceeded to take his seat without a word to either of his parents.

Lucius stared incredulously down the table at his son, then slammed his paper down upon the polished wooden surface- causing Narcissa to look up from her coffee in mild surprise- "Draco!"

The boy raised his head- the very picture of innocence. "Yes Father?"

Lucius' grey eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are _late_," he ground out.

"You said yesterday that I was allowed to be late," retorted Draco with a very slight air of petulance as he stretched out his arm to reach for the toast.

"I said," snapped his father, forcing himself to stay in his seat, "that you could have five minutes, not _thirty_."

Draco raised his eyebrows mildly. "Oh. Sorry." He reached for the butter, cut into it easily and started to spread it across his toast; the harsh scraping sound grated Lucius' patience, causing the man's hands to clench so tightly around his newspaper that it almost ripped.

"Put. That. Back." Lucius hissed in an uncharacteristically calm voice, accenting each word so strongly that Draco couldn't even pretend not to hear. "You know perfectly well that lateness means no breakfast."

Draco hesitated- as though debating whether it was worth defying his father just to see what would happen. Slowly, the boy placed the knife across his plate and raised his chin to look squarely back at his father. "Why?" he asked daringly. "Why does it make a difference?"

'_How dare he! The insolent little-'_ "Because I am your father and I said so!" snarled Lucius, staring hard at his son- daring him to try push him further. "Now, I suggest that you go back to your room and make a start with your reading," Lucius picked up his paper again. "I will be up to begin the lesson shortly."

But Draco did not move. Although he heart was beating rapidly in his chest, his new resolution made him stand strong. He would _not_ back down anymore...

"Did you not hear me, boy?" said Lucius, grey eyes scanning the finance section idly. "I said-"

"I heard what you said," retorted Draco, expression rigidly intense.

"Then why are you not doing it?"

The boy bit his lip briefly, bracing himself to say what he was about to. Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, he said quietly, "I don't want to."

Lucius' features twitched behind his paper. Almost painfully slowly, the man looked up and quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I-I don't want to," Draco repeated, louder this time. It was all he could do to not look away; his hands were trembling in his lap and his stomach was churning. _'Be brave_,_'_ he told himself as his father's gaze locked with his own. _'Dragons are always brave...' _

"You don't _want_ to?" echoed his father, slowly closing and then meticulously folding his paper. His lip curled into a very slight sneer; his normally handsome features were twisted with anger and his eyes were edged with steel. "You. Don't. _**Want to**_?" The last part of the sentence came out as a loud snarl, which made both Narcissa and Draco freeze. The legs of the ornate dining chair scraped viciously across the floor as Lucius pushed it back and rose gradually- never once taking his eyes off Draco, who was now eyeing his father with obvious trepidation and just a hint of regret.

"When, Draco," sighed Lucius, stepping languidly around the table, "has what you wanted _ever_ really been taken into account, hmm?"

Draco slid quickly off his own chair and backed away a little as his father approached. When threatened, the body's natural instinct is to go into fight or flight. Draco's normal response to this was to opt for flight, but he was sick of running away, sick of being afraid...which left him with one option; to fight.

"Perhaps," the elder Malfoy continued. "Perhaps being pampered away from home for so long has given you false ideas. Perhaps you have been told that you needn't obey me because I do not know what is best for you." Lucius leant down to Draco's height. "Am I right?" he demanded icily. "Is that what they told you?" Draco hesitated, still gathering his courage, but he was not quick enough, it seemed, for Lucius took the final step and snatched the little boy by the shoulders. "Answer me Draco!"

"No." Draco raised his head, trying hard to ignore the dull pain of his father's fingers digging into his skin. "They didn't tell me that," he snapped, looking up at his father with utter loathing. "I worked it out for _myself_!"

Lucius stared at his son calculatingly- hardly able to believe what he had just heard. He had been prepared for some sort of change and had meticulously planned how to tackle and overcome them...but never had he even considered the possibility that Draco would change _this_ much!

Draco braced himself for the inevitable retribution- clenching his teeth and tensing his body ready for the blow...but, to his surprise, he noticed that his father's expression was changing from unreserved fury to one that could almost be called unease.

The two Malfoys stayed like that for a while- each trying to assess what the other was thinking. Then, with a sniff, Lucius released the boy abruptly and turned his back, saying quietly, "Go and start reading. I will be up shortly."

With only a moment's hesitation- unable to believe his luck, more than anything- Draco pelted out of the dining room, leaving his father deep in thought and his mother very confused.

* * *

With every word I read of Draco's letter, my concern increased and the small amount of hope that I had that Draco would be able to settle in diminished. As much as I was pleased that he wanted to stick up for himself, I knew that this would only make Lucius all the more determined to control his son. Although Draco was sure to have inherited his father's stubbornness, if it came down to a battle of wills, there was no way that Lucius would break before Draco did.

But, despite the fears I had for my godson's welfare, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride in his sudden resolve; Lucius would most certainly have his work cut out for him now.

I only hoped- prayed, even- that Draco would know when to stop, when he needed to back down...Lucius had proved time and time again that he would not stop until he had achieved what he wanted, ignorant and uncaring of the consequences and I seriously hoped that Draco had not inherited that flaw.

"Is he okay?" my mother asked anxiously, hovering over my shoulder. She had been fretful for days- the lateness of Draco's reply affecting her as much as it had me.

"Yes," I was able to reassure her without being completely untruthful. "Draco is fine at the moment. He says thank you for having him."

She smiled gratefully, some of the tension leaving her face. "Good..." she murmured to herself. "That's really good...but you will go round, won't you?" Her dark eyes snapped sharply to meet mine. "Before you leave? You did say you would. You did promise him-"

"Yes, I know. I will, of course I will."

Just that morning, I had received a letter from Dumbledore informing me that I was required to attend a short training course to make sure that I knew what I was supposed and that I was relatively competent at teaching it. What Dumbledore would do were I to prove unsatisfactory, I do not know, considering I was doing him a favour... personally, I felt it wholly unnecessary, but it had to be done and I left in a week.

"I shall write to Lucius soon," I said, folding Draco's letter. "I am not going to just burst in uninvited and make things worse."

If only I had known just how soon it would actually be and that it would not be me who would be doing the writing...

* * *

Draco sat slumped in his seat, arms folded sullenly across his chest, feet kicking idly against the ornate legs of his chair as his father droned on and on and on about something to do with a particular family of magical herb and their common uses. Draco felt too elated- too _triumphant_- to even consider paying attention; for the first time he had actually dared to stand up to his father and speak his mind _and _he had escaped without a single bruise or even a threat of punishment!

Maybe this would be easier than he had expected...

Lucius looked up from the book from which he was reading and scowled to see his son looking bored with a vacant expression across his pale features. He had resisted the urge to beat the impudent little brat thus far- although, were Lucius to be honest with himself, it was shock more than anything that had kept him from striking Draco in the dining room- but, clearly, the boy had got it into his head that he could be as rude and as inattentive as he pleased without having to fear anything.

"_Draco_!"

Blue-grey flicked casually up. "Yes?"

"Pay attention!" Lucius snapped, unconsciously flexing his fingers. "How do you expect to learn if you don't even listen?"

Draco scowled and sighed loudly; rolling his eyes and kicking the chair legs with even more vehemence. "What if I don't _want_ to learn?" he muttered. "I don't see why I should..." The boy sat up abruptly, suddenly angry, "I don't even want to go to Durmstrang! I want to go to Hogwarts and you don't even need to study for that! You only want me to go there because you know that I don't want to!"

Lucius snorted dismissively. "Don't be ridic-"

"Don't call me ridiculous!" Draco shouted, shoving his chair back so hard that it fell over. "It's true; _you_ don't want me to be happy! You're never nice to me, even when I try to obey and be perfect, there's always something I'm doing wrong! Why did you even want me home?" The little boy was beside himself now; his words were coming out as one long hysterical sentence. "Why couldn't you just let me stay where people wanted me and liked me? You obviously don't and Mother doesn't really so what's the point of me being here? Why don't you _like_ me?"

Lucius looked coldly up at his son. "At the moment, I dislike you because you are being rude, disobedient and downright ungrateful! Whether you like it or not, you are- first and foremost- A _Malfoy_. Therefore you are expected to do your duty as a Malfoy which means you remain _here_ and do what I tell you to. _Without_ questioning." Placing the book carefully down on the table, he rose gracefully.

Draco stood his ground, trying his best to ignore the horrible feeling in his stomach. His father now stood over him, tall, proud and daunting.

"You are here," Lucius continued quietly, "because you need to be. Whether you or I like it or not. And I am not going to shirk my duties as your father simply because a few stupid, _ignorant_ people have put their silly ideals into your head."

At this, Draco's head snapped up and his eyes burned furiously. "_**Don't you call them that**_!" he shouted, his young face contorted with anger. "_You're_ the stupid one, not them!" Draco was past the point of caring what he said by now; hatred, disappointment and desperation welled up inside him, making him thoughtless and impulsive. "You only don't like them 'cause I like them more than you! You're _jealous_!"

Lucius' face twitched, as though Draco had actually touched a nerve. Then, with a deep, wordless snarl, he grabbed the front of Draco's shirt with both hands and yanked the boy roughly towards him. "How dare you be so disrespectful?" he hissed, his pale face barely an inch from his son's. "After everything I have taught you, despite all the times I have had to punish you for being ill-mannered...when did you become so stupid, Draco?"

A slight, mocking smile graced Draco's lips as he glared stonily up at his father. "I was stupider when I was scared of you. I was stupider when I thought I couldn't stand up for myself." He spoke clearly, with neither hesitation nor stutter. "I was stupider when I thought that you was right about everything and when I would do anything to keep you from being angry at me. You're stupid for thinking I care anymore. I don't _want_ to go to Durmstrang, I don't _want_ to be here and _I wish I wasn't a Malfoy_!"

Draco had hardly finished his sentence before he was lifted up off his feet and slammed hard against the stone wall; his head hitting it with such force that the little boy was momentarily stunned.

"Don't you _ever_ say that _again_!" roared Lucius, shoving Draco brutally with each accented word. "I don't care with you think; I don't care what you want. If I have to break every bone in your body in order to make you behave properly, I swear to Merlin, Draco, I shall!"

Head spinning painfully, Draco glared- dazed- at the man who was holding him, trying to understand what had just been said. "I'll run away," he responded thickly, blinking hard to make the stars dancing before his eyes go away. "I'll run and nothing you can do would make me come back."

Lucius regarded Draco with a contemptuous sneer. "You think you're so brave don't you?" he hissed, snake-like. "You think you've grown up _so_ much. But let me tell you this, _boy_; you would be nothing without me. It is _I_ who provides for you, who gives you what you need. You will only ever be a _Malfoy_ to anyone- _that_ will be the only thing that will matter in your life, _that_ will be what makes people like you and _that_ will dictate your future. You will never simply be 'Draco' to anyone. As Draco, you are worthless but as a Malfoy you are worth everything that this family stands for, so I suggest that you get off your high horse and start to realise that."

Draco stared- not really able to understand, but knowing that whatever it was was frightening.

"You denounce the name of Malfoy," continued Lucius, "and you will have _nothing_. No money, no status, no friends...you are worth only your name and what _I_ allow you, and do not forget it!"

With that, the Malfoy patriarch threw his little boy roughly to the ground. Draco winced as his hands smacked the ground and he landed awkwardly on his ankle.

"Then I hate you for making me a Malfoy," the boy spat venomously. "I hate you for not giving me the chance- Ow!" This outburst earned him a sharp slap to the side of the head, knocking him sideways.

"Your whinging _bores_ me, Draco," drawled Lucius, expression stony. "Will you never learn?"

Draco scowled heavily, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe the blood away from where his father's ring had snagged him. A sudden wave of dizziness came over him, forcing Draco to bow his head and shut his eyes; he suddenly felt sick and faint and there was a bump on his head and it wasn't even midday yet..._'No giving up now,'_ the boy told himself sternly. _'Too late for second thoughts...too late for going back...'_ Tears prickled his eyes as thought about what his father had said to him. _'You will never be Draco to anyone'..._Only Malfoy...only ever Malfoy... Draco pressed his lips and eyes tight together to keep himself from crying.

But Draco's senses were sharpened suddenly as a soft and all-too familiar sound caught his attention. Trembling slightly, the little boy slowly raised his head- hoping and praying that he was mistaken- and flinched so violently it almost hurt as Lucius pulled his belt off with a sharp snap and held it carefully in both hands; his proud features triumphant as he saw what an effect he was having on his obstinate son.

Draco's blood turned ice-cold. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. His eyes- wide with unconcealed fright- could focus on nothing but sleek, black leather and razor-sharp steel. This was scarier than Dr Southard...a thousand times scarier and all the reasons reason that Draco had for letting that man do what he did came flooding back.

His father said something to him, but Draco could not hear, could not even register that he was even being spoken to...his stomach was twisting and turning and leaping around and Draco was sure that he was either going to throw up or wet himself... He wanted to run. He wanted to be back at Spinner's End. He wanted Sir!

Whatever his father had said was repeated, snarled, even. Draco watched numbly- his body trembling and cold with terror- as the belt was folded into two, raised high in the air and then came rushing down towards him with a whistle of motion...

Draco passed out before it struck him.

* * *

_11__th__ July 1988_

_Severus,_

_I regret to tell you that Draco has become completely uncontrollable and I am being forced to take drastic action. I wish to make it clear, that I did not wish to have to go this far and I was considering becoming more lenient towards him, but Draco is becoming increasingly more boisterous and impudent and there is nothing else that I can do._

_I will give you one chance to talk to him; make him understand that it is in his best interest to obey and comply. You have obviously been able to influence him very effectively already, so I am certain that he will listen to you again. If you choose not to, or you fail to make him see sense, I will ensure that you are held accountable for any...damage that might be caused due to my not having any other option._

_I will not have you criticising me or giving Draco the impression that what he is doing is right, because you will only be causing him more pain and more suffering and I will make sure that he knew that you are responsible for that._

_I apologise for having to involve you again, but I am at the end of my tether. I suggest that you get here quickly otherwise I don't know what I will be driven to do._

_Lucius Malfoy_

A/N: There comes a time in a story, when you have reached the main point of writing; even if you don't realise it until afterwards. That is what has happened in this chapter. It wasn't planned, it just happened (not that i could even plan what my characters are going to do or say) I realised, only after i had thought of the title, just how poignant it actually is; obviously, it is based on A Child called It by David Pelzer but also, i have noticed that Draco is never simpy refered to as 'Draco', it's always 'Malfoy'. The only people I have ever heard call him Draco his Snape and his parents. And, considering the books are from Harry's PoV, I don't think readers (unless, of course you are a slytherin fan) actually take into consideration that Draco is, when it comes down to it, just a child. Like Harry and the others are. People are always like "Oh, Malfoy's and evil git and should die..." and there's nothing else to it...

Basically, I know what I mean, I'm just rubbish at explaing :P

Anyways, thankyou extremely to everyone who has taken the time to let me know what they think; it's always greatly appreciated. Sorry about the delay, but I had a lot of difficulties with this chapter- nothing went to plan at all... and I've also been very busy with college and such.

If you have the time or the interest, please check out my video blogs on youtube. The link is in my profile :)

Kudos and halloween marshmallow cakes to everyone!

Love Lily xxx


	35. Part Five 4

**DEDICATED TO: PERFECTPUREBLOOD FOR DOING ME THE MOST AMAZING TRAILER FOR THIS FIC IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!! GO WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE ^^ AND TO NOTWOLF BECAUSE I AM A TERRIBLE READER AND I'M SO SORRY!! AND TO BRIGHT EYES FOR FINISHING EXAMS!!!**

**Loves to you all!!!**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

_**13**__**th**__** July 1988**_

No sooner had I finished reading the last word of Lucius' letter, my mother had snatched it out of my hands, scanned it quickly and- face set hard- shoved me promptly out of the house with an order _'Not to return without the boy.'_

The front door was slammed shut behind me, leaving me with a frown and a more than slight feeling of bewilderment. With a long, _very _heartfelt sigh, I thrust my hands deep into my pockets and began to walk- not wanting to apparate directly to Wiltshire without at least _some_ sort of plan of how I was going to handle the situation...

Admittedly, I was relieved that Lucius had extended the invitation first without me having to push in. But, as I read on, I could see that this was a last resort. God knows what had happened to force the obstinate Lucius Malfoy to ask for my help...

I lashed out with my foot to kick a discarded drinks can, propelling it down the lane and into the murky river. He had only been there for a week! If the situation could escalate this severely in less than ten days, what the hell would happen in a month or even more? I couldn't simply be expected to drop everything at a moment's notice when things got out of hand...even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to put up with that. Why couldn't Lucius, for once, just act like an adult and think about what he is doing _before_ everything gets out of hand?

And Draco's last letter had been so positive; so full of hope and determination...I suppose that is where the main problem lay.

* * *

Head supported wearily with one hand, quill held loosely in the other, Draco stared blindly down at the text book propped up in front of him. Tired, grey eyes moved slowly from left to right, left to right, reading whatever it was that he had been ordered to read, but not taking in a word of it. Draco was sure that he had read that last paragraph about dittany at least three times before but he couldn't quite remember...

The sun beat down upon the gardens, making everything look brighter, fresher and even more radiant. It shone through the little diamond-paned window- magnified somewhat by the glass- and lit up the small, rounded tower room in which Draco now worked. The boy's sleeves were rolled up passed his elbows and the very top button of his shirt had been undone in an attempt to make the summer heat a tad more bearable. Draco sincerely hoped that he would be able to hear his father approaching to give him sufficient time to fix his appearance before he was caught.

The boy watched as two peacocks ran around the ornamental fountain- one chasing the other and playfully trying to snap its tail- before they both flapped into the cascading water to cool off, wings splashing, feathers dripping. _'It must get terribly hot,'_ thought Draco absently as he looked down upon them, _'having feathers...'_

With a long sigh of discontentment, Draco turned his attention away from the birds and back to the chapter that he was supposed to be writing about. He pulled the sheet of parchment that he had been making notes on towards him and read them over with a frown. They made even less sense than the book did. Draco threw them down in disgust and slumped down in his seat with a moan of frustration.

He _didn't_ understand what he was supposed to be writing about, he couldn't write about something if he didn't know what it was because it would, inevitably, be wrong and if he wrote about the wrong thing or nothing at all, he would be beaten. Again.

Draco's father had barely spoken a word to him since he had told Draco that he was worth only what the name of Malfoy stood for. Instead, Lucius had decided that actions do, in fact, speak louder than words and it was more effective and less time consuming to use the belt to make Draco shut up and do what he was told rather than actually bothering to argue with him. A very nasty bruise, which ran from just above the boy's ear down to his chin, was the result of the most recent disagreement between father and son. Luckily, Draco had, thus far, been able to keep the promise had had made to himself to be strong and not to cry in front of his father because the mere threat of his father's belt scared him enough that he unable to breathe, much less cry.

With that thought, Draco hurriedly dipped his pen into the small bottle of ink he had been provided with and began to write quickly- unsure, really, of what he was trying to say but anything was better than nothing and it would all lead to the same end anyway, so what did it matter?

_It would all end the same..._Draco bit his lip painfully and stared hard at the paper in front of him in an attempt to keep himself under control. But it hurt too much and a tear rolled down the boy's nose and splashed onto his work; spreading quickly and smudging the ink. Ruining what little had been done. This small setback proved too much for Draco's already fragile state and, now that one tear had fallen, the rest came quickly and easily and soon not one word of Draco's work could be read.

* * *

Lucius was in no mood for pleasantries when I arrived. He scowled as I entered the drawing-room; his pale face set with frustration and as taut and immovable as a rock. There would be no room for any sort of compromise today, I realised- heart sinking- I would just have to do my best with the small amount of latitude I was granted. I was also aware that, were I to disagree with Lucius when he was in this sort of mood, I would- undoubtedly- come out of it with a sufficiently shorter life expectancy.

"So, uh...what's wrong?" I began. The tension in the Manor was stifling and I could feel my chest tightening as it infected me like a cold. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to sort out your _blasted _godson!" Lucius snapped, striding out of the room with an indication for me to follow. "He is completely out of control; he is wilful, disrespectful and downright unbearable!" He rounded on me suddenly, eyes blazing. "_You_ made him like this, you _changed_ him and now you can bloody well change him back again otherwise, Merlin help me, I _will_ do something drastic and it will be _all your fault_! And I will make sure that Draco knows it, too!"

I wanted to shout at him- _'How can you be so callous?'_- I wanted to hurt him like he hurt everyone else...but I didn't. There's no point. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and followed behind my 'friend' as he lead me through the labyrinth of passage ways that was Malfoy Manor- many of which I had never come across before, despite the amount of time that I had spent there.

After walking in silence for, what felt like, a thousand miles, we came to a small door with a brass handle. Lucius produced a key from his trouser pocket, unlocked the door easily with a sharp turn of his wrist, and then pushed it open to allow me inside.

"You lock him in?" I asked with a frown, stepping inside.

Lucius shrugged. "It is necessary. You'll find him up those stairs over there," he pointed to a small flight of wooden steps which curled around the circular tower room and finished by another door- three or four metres above our heads. "An hour, Severus. You have an hour."

* * *

Draco's head snapped up as he heard the stairs creak beneath the weight of someone's feet and looked down- horrified- at the essay he was supposed to be writing..._supposed to have finished!_ Even if it had been legible, he had still only written six inches and that would never be considered enough! Mind going into overdrive, Draco snatched up his pen and began scrawling nonsense. Maybe if his father saw that he was trying hard, he wouldn't get so mad...

Draco's fingers dragged the quill automatically across the page as hundreds of excuses presented themselves, each as useless as the next.

Straightening his back and taking a deep breath, the boy composed himself and waited- expressionless- for the sound of his father coming in.

* * *

Apart from being round and having considerably more space, Draco's new rooms looked basically the same as the old ones had been; the downstairs part was taken up with an old-looking arm chair, a small glass topped table and several bookshelves- evidently made especially to fit against the curved stone walls. The small space that wasn't taken up with books had been fitted with an ornate fireplace which had been ornately carved from some sort of black stone. Because there were no windows, brackets filled with enchanted fire were dispersed evenly and filled the little room with war, orange light.

Upstairs was much the same as Draco's old bedroom had been; an insanely immense four-poster bed dominated the majority of the space and an ancient oak wardrobe took up much of the rest. A large bay window, hung with deep-red velvet, overlooked the northern part of the Malfoy garden and it was in this recess that Draco was seated- his back to me- at a small writing desk.

I watched him silently from the doorway- pretending for a moment that nothing had changed- nothing had gone wrong- and that he was still my student. I missed our routine and how simple everything had been back then. Relatively speaking, of course. I missed it more than I would ever admit, but- be it for pride or practicality- I would never come back.

Stepping carefully across the carpeted floor, I moved over to where Draco was working, still, apparently, oblivious to my presence, and stood behind him. Reaching slowly out with one hand, I placed it on my godson's shoulder.

No sooner had I touched him than Draco started violently, knocking the desk and upsetting a bottle of ink all over his work. Panicking, he jumped to his feet and desperately tried to rectify the situation by moving everything out of the way of the spreading ink. "Sorry sorry..." he kept repeating; head bowed, shoulders hunched as his hands moved frantically.

"Draco-"

"Please, I'd done it! Really I had! Father, I'm sorry..."

"Draco, it's okay! It's just me!"

Draco turned around- an ink stained sheet of parchment clutched tightly in equally stained hands- and eyed me doubtfully. He was not in as bad a way as I had feared; despite the bruises, he stood up straight, his eyes were bright and alert and his expression was fierce. He had not been broken yet.

Then, all at once, a grin spread across Draco's face, he burst into tears and flung his skinny arms around my waist. "You're here! You're here! Why didn't you come sooner? Why didn't you come when I wanted you?"

"Forgive me," I murmured, resting a hand on his head and running my fingers through white-blonde hair. "I wanted to wait until things had settled down. Your letter was so positive, I hadn't realised that things had become so difficult between you and your father."

"But you're here now." Draco took a step back and looked up at me- smiling broadly through his tears. "Just like you promised. Are we going to go back to your house? Or Hogwarts? Where are we going Sir?"

I frowned, not understanding. "What do you mean, Draco?"

"I mean, you're going to take me, aren't you? We're going to go somewhere, right?" Grey eyes looked at me anxiously and the smile flickered. "Unless you're coming back..."

I studied my godson carefully; wondering where on earth this was coming from. I had never said anything that would give him the impression that I was going to take him away again, but the expectancy and the hope in Draco's expression told a very different story.

Sighing, I held out a hand to him. "Come," I said as he took it wordlessly. "I think you and I need to talk."

* * *

"So are you?" Draco asked excitedly, clambering up into my lap as I sat down in the armchair by the fireplace. "Coming back, I mean. Have you changed your mind about Hogwarts?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, I'm still going."

"Oh..." my godson shifted slightly, cocking his head to one side and regarding me curiously. "So, where am _I_ going, then? Am _I_ going to Hogwarts too?"

"Draco..." I could hardly bear to even look at him, I felt that bad, "I'm sorry Dragon, I really don't know where you're getting all this from, but I'm afraid that you're not going anywhere. Your father wanted me to talk to you, he said that...he said that you are out of control and I needed to talk some sense into you otherwise..." my words trailed hopelessly off as Draco stared at me despondently. I put out a hand to touch him, to apologise, but he just shrugged me off and turned his face away.

"Don't be angry," I almost pleaded, taking one of his hands in my own. "If there was anything-"

"You could do, you'd do it, I know," finished Draco with a sigh, pulling his hand away. "I used to think," said Draco softly after a short silence, "that you weren't afraid of Father. That you didn't mind standing up to him. But it's scary, isn't it?" Grey eyes flicked up with a glimmer of apprehension. "Standing up to Father, I mean. I hadn't realised how bad it would make things...I thought it would help..." a small hand brushed tentatively against the stark bruise that ran down his jaw then, with a small shiver, Draco sat back; head resting against my chest, hands holding tightly to my shirt. "You _said_ it would help, Sir."

"But I hadn't realised that you would take it so far." I wrapped my arms around Draco's small body and hugged him. "There is a difference, Draco, albeit a slight one, between being brave and being foolish. It is good that you are trying to stick up for yourself," I assured him as the boy turned his face up to glare at me. "However, it is stupid to bait him for the sake of it and you will only end up getting hurt needlessly. Draco, I will put this bluntly; I do not wish to see you dead. Your father is stubborn and dangerous and you will break before he does, do you understand me?"

Draco said nothing- silenced and stunned by what I had said.

"You're an intelligent boy, you know how to survive," I continued gently. "Be strong, be brave, but do not give him reason to hurt you and I'm sure you'll be fine. What about your mother? Is she getting better?"

"I haven't seen her since she took me away," Draco replied quietly, fingers toying with a loose button on my shirt. "I think she's still sulking and Father's angry at her anyway for not looking after me properly and we came home."

I made a disparaging noise in the back of my throat. "She promised that she would watch out for you," I muttered. "Of her own accord too..."

But Draco simply shrugged. "I don't care. She never bothered before and she would only complicate things. She would only get into trouble with Father and blame me for that."

The bleak, matter-of-fact way in which he spoke saddened me; no eight year old should even be able to talk that way. But, at the same time, he was right. Narcissa was far too self-absorbed to ever really make a positive difference to her son's abysmal situation. Draco was probably better off without her.

We sat for several minutes in silence, content with each other's company and no need to speak. The clock which hung on the opposite wall ticked away the seconds loudly and quickly, reminding me of what little time I had left. There was so much more that I needed to say, but I would rather that I left things unsaid than disturb our mutual peace.

"How long're you staying for?" Draco murmured suddenly, turning his face upwards expectantly. "Will you stay 'til you go to Hogwarts?"

"I would..." I answered carefully. "But your father is not in the best of moods and he will only put up with me for an hour."

"An _hour_?" repeated Draco, aghast, twisting around to sit up. "But...but that's nothing! Why would you only come for an hour? Why would you do that?"

Without thinking, I blurted out, "It wasn't my idea! Your father sent for me because he said you were out of control and that I had to talk you out of it. He is _furious_, Draco. I'm not sure that I have ever seen him this upset before. There was absolutely no point in arguing with him because, more likely than not, I probably wouldn't have got even an hour."

"You mean he _asked_ you to come?" Draco's expression was suddenly hard. "Would you not have bothered otherwise? Are you only here because he _told_ you to?"

"You know perfectly well that isn't the case," I told him sternly, recognising the annoyingly familiar expression of bitterness at my apparent treachery. Something that I would never grow accustomed to. "I told you- I _promised_ you that I would come, didn't I?" Draco scowled. "True, if I had been left to my own devices, it would probably have been left a while longer," I continued firmly, "but only because I wanted you to try and settle back down and get along without needing me."

"But I do," Draco said simply, looking at me as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You know that. I don't have anyone but you."

I said nothing. What _could_ I say? As much as I disliked the thought of being depended upon by somebody, _anybody_, I couldn't just leave him to fend for himself. As much as I wanted to concentrate on my own life, I found it difficult to remember just how young Draco actually was and that he did genuinely need me. I could never resent him for that, despite all my complaining. I was, in short, the best of a _very_ bad bunch.

Smiling sadly, I stroked Draco's cheek with the back of my hand, careful not to touch the bruise. "I wish that I could do better," I murmured sincerely. "I wish that I could do right by you."

Draco gave a small sigh and looked away. "Mmm..." Then, cautiously, "How much time's left?"

My eyes flicked briefly up to the clock, which smirked at me. "Not long," I whispered as Draco laid his head on my shoulder. "A few minutes maybe."

As is often the case with people such as myself who possess a particularly small amount of fortune, bad luck was on my side as Lucius chose that very moment to wrench the door open and march in, barking, "Time's up!" His temper had not lessened in the slightest, it seemed, as he still wore the same expression of wild, barely controlled fury as he had when I had arrived. "Well," the elder Malfoy snapped, directing his stormy eyes at me. "Have you done it?" Then, even sharper, to Draco, "Have you decided to behave yourself now?"

For a moment, Draco looked stoically up at his father, saying nothing, and I was afraid that Malfoy pride would overcome sense... but, to my unreserved relief, Draco bowed his head and nodded. "Yes Father."

A triumphant smirk marred Lucius' haughty features. "Good...I presume then, that you _have_ finished your work, considering you're turning over the proverbial leaf?"

Draco's head flashed up, horrified. "W-what?"

"I said," Lucius repeated patronisingly slowly, "I assume you have finished the work I set for you to do because it would be a shame to spoil things so soon, wouldn't it?"

Shifting unhappily, Draco bit his lip and glanced briefly over to me, begging for help. I rose, angry, and opened my mouth to protest, but Lucius cut me off with a curt, "Well, bring me what you have done, if anything, and then I'll make a judgement. Go!" With a quick, frightened glance at me, Draco stumbled up the steps to his room. When he had gone, Lucius turned pleasantly to me. "Thank you, Severus, you can go now."

"Don't be ridiculous!" I snapped back, scowling. "You are being completely unreasonable. Draco has promised to behave and you are _still_-"

"Still _what?_" Everything from Lucius' voice to his expression challenged me. "I have a _job_ to do, Severus. And, in case you don't remember, the only reason I am doing it, is because you were inadequate. Forgive me for wanting the best for my son and for not shirking my duties." He sneered and said calmly, "If you truly wanted what was best for Draco, you would understand that I am right."

"_What--?_" I could scarcely believe what I was hearing; the arrogant sonofagoblin was actually blaming _me_!

"This is not up for discussion," he informed me, turning his back. "Leave my house, please."

I shook my head wearily, sadly. I had already outstayed my welcome and I knew that, were I to push my luck further, it would only incense Lucius further. "Fine," I said placidly. "But let me say goodbye to Draco first. I owe him that, at least."

Lucius, turned, grey eyes narrowed, then nodded curtly, with a warning, "But if Draco isn't down here in three minutes, there will be consequences." _'And the guilt will punish you as much as him,'_ he finished silently.

* * *

Draco was standing by his desk, gazing out the window when I got upstairs. Sunlight made the white in his hair gleam and illuminated his pale face with an almost ethereal quality.

I stepped in tentatively. "Draco, I have to leave now...." The boy neither moved nor spoke, or showed any sign at all that he had heard me. "Draco-"

"So go then." Clear and emotionless, my godson spoke languidly.

"What?"

"If you're gonna go," Draco turned, expression blank. In his hands, he clutched the parchment that he had been working on- black and spoiled by ink. "Why don't you just go?"

I regarded him, frowning- trying to ascertain whether or not he was being serious. "Do you want me to?" I asked slowly.

"Does it matter?" Draco snapped back instantly. "As Father said, when has what I want _ever_ been taken into account?" I could see the hurt and the anger rising like a great wave, building and building before crashing down and destroying everything. "You're always making out like you care and want to help and such but when it comes down to it you _won't_! You're just the same as everyone else!"

I stared hopelessly down at my godson- what he said was right, in a way, but at the same time it wasn't like that at all...but I could I even hope to make him understand?

"Draco, I can't-"

"_Why_ can't you?" Draco cried passionately. "You're an _adult_, you can do anything if you want to! You're just pretending to care 'cause it makes you feel good but you don't really. You _don't_ care! 'Least...not like you say you do." His grey eyes- suddenly so much like his father's- flashed up sharply. "You're a _liar_. Or, if you really do mean it, you're a _coward_!"

The word, _that_ word, made me flinch. Before I had thought about what I was doing, I grabbed hold of Draco's shoulders and shook him hard. "Don't you _dare,_" I snarled furiously, "Don't you _dare_ ever say that to me again! Do you understand me?" He stared up at me- wide eyed, silent. "_Draco_!"

I felt him cringe and recoil beneath my touch as I shouted at him. "Then...then why won't you help me?" he whispered, voice wobbling. "I-if you weren't...you would _try_. _Please_....!" Draco whimpered as I gripped him a fraction harder, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"Now listen to me," I said quietly, not releasing my hold. "I have said, many times, that if there was something that I could do that I felt would benefit you in _any_ way at all, I would do it. However, it would be _illegal_, Draco, for me to do something drastic against your father's wishes. If I were to take you away now, I could be arrested for _kidnap_! Is that what you want? Is that what you're asking me to do?"

"But they wouldn't!" Draco yelled back. "If you told them, they'd understand, I_ know_ they would! _You're_ just making excuses 'cause you don't want to help! You don't care what happens to me! You don't care what Father does or what he says to me!" Draco's high-pitched voice bordered on the edge of hysteria and thick with tears as he shouted at me. "I bet you wouldn't help even if he was gonna kill me 'cause it would mean having to not go to your _stupid_ Hogwarts! Well maybe I don't care neither!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Draco managed to tear away from me and stood, quivering with anger and stiff with fear, a few metres away out of my reach.

As I am sure I have said many times before, dealing with an emotionally unstable (for want of a better phrase) Draco is like dealing with a very wild, very fierce feline. I didn't particularly want to approach him, for fear of either him running away or my being bitten.

"I don't care neither!" Draco continued to shriek. "I don't care if you go away forever and leave me here 'cause I won't stay! _I won't_! If-if Father doesn't kill me, _I_ will! I-I swear I will! And then...and then it'll be good 'cause then you can do your job like you wanted and Father and Mother won't have to bother anymore 'cause I'll be...'cause I'll be..." But it was impossible for Draco to finish. The actual meaning of what he was saying stuck the little boy suddenly. He sat down with a bump, wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and burst into tears. "I-I don't want to...d-d-die!" he sobbed.

Taking advantage of Draco's subdued temper, I crouched down and wrapped my arms around him. "You aren't going to die," I murmured, resting my chin lightly on the crown of his head. "Being melodramatic isn't going to do much good. I was only exaggerating when I said that I didn't want to see you dead, your father isn't going to kill you."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Draco turned his tear-stained face up towards me. His eyes searched mine, as though trying to make me understand. "_I_ will. I can't stay here, I _can't_! And if you don't take me away, I'll k-k-kill myself! I swear it, Sir!"

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!!!!!!! This has been an outrageous delay and there is no excuse for it :S AllI can say is that I have succumbed to face book, boys are suddenly rather important and I have two jobs that I don't want but can't decide between- ie. checkout girl in Woolworths and waitressing... I have never been so damned busy in my _entire_ life!!! I wrote most of this weeks and weeks ago and then just...sort of stopped ¬¬ But anyway, you have my undying pledge that I will never give up my fics no matter how busy I get :)

I was going to try and finish by yesterday, considering it was the 21st and The Day That HBP Almost Came Out ¬¬ I actually cried :'( My condolences to everyone- we united in our HP grief. BUT Epic trailer came out on mugglenet las week and it is AMAZING so go type HBP trailer 3 into youtube if you haven't seen it already!!!

And welcome new readers from youtube, thankyou so much for taking the time to catch up :D

Love and Galaxy Chocolate to all!!

Lily M xxxxx

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	36. Part Five 5

"I'll k-k-kill myself! I swear it, Sir!"

His words were spoken with such sincerity that he gave me no reason to think that it was a meaningless threat, as much as I wanted it to be. No, Draco most definitely meant what he said. My godson, my _eight-year-old_ godson, was seriously considering..._suicide_, to put it bluntly, at that very second. His life was, effectively, placed into _my_ hands. It was _my_ choices and _my_ decisions that would determine what would happen next...and one thoughtless action or one misspoken word could...well, to apply and over-used phrase, I was treading on ice.

Really, there was very little to think about; I only had one option and I knew what I had to do... but the consequences of doing the right thing made my stomach turn and my head ache. But there would be time enough to worry about _that_ at a later date and I feared that, were I to think about it all properly now, I would bottle out and do something rational but immensely stupid.

Draco was looking up at me as all these things were going through my head, waiting apprehensively to hear what was going to happen, what I was going to do. I hated that I was hesitating and I was sure that Draco could see the uncertainty in my eyes. But I couldn't...I wanted to, _desperately_, but the rational, logical part of me was screaming that this could ruin any chance I would ever have of 'leading an unstressful, normal and relatively quiet' (its words, not mine) life. For the first time in my life- that I could remember, anyway- I was completely, undeniably terrified, both of what would happen if I did do the right thing and also what would happen if I didn't.

The low, yet distinct rumble of Lucius' voice carried suddenly up through the floor. Although I could not make out the words, the sound sent Draco into a trembling, wild-eyed state, making him leap up suddenly and rush to the window, wrenching it open with a strength that only panic could induce in a child.

"F-fine..." he muttered, leaning out slowly, almost hesitantly. "If you're not...if you're not going to-" But the end of the sentence was silenced by tears.

I watched in immobilised horror as Draco swung one leg shakily over the window-ledge and peered down onto the garden. Sunlight made him glow incandescently- pathetic fallacy was horribly absent and I am sure that, were we in a novel by Dickens or Charlotte Bronte, the weather would be quite black with rain and thunder.

Fortunately, something inside managed to kick me into action before it was too late. My wand was drawn automatically- _"Impedimenta!"_- and Draco was yanked away from the window, stunned before he hit the floor with a crash.

"Okay," I murmured, dropping down beside him and flicking my wand for a second time, removing the spell. Draco sat up unsteadily, wincing as he did so as the aftershock hit him. "We'll go. We'll go back to my house, but Draco this is _not_ like last time. I don't know what will happen to you or to me and I don't know when you will be able to come home-"

The heavy sound of footsteps ascending the staircase made us both look round and Draco shrank back a little.

"Listen to me," I continued hurriedly, physically turning the little boy's pale face in my direction. "_Listen_! If we are going to do this, you have _got_ to trust me. Everything will change, for the good or for the bad, I don't know. I can't promise anything. But you _have_ to be one hundred percent certain that this is what you want."

The handle of the door turned slowly behind us, making Draco whimper.

"_Draco_!" I hissed. "_Is this what you want?_"

Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

'_This is it,'_ I remember thinking as I rose to my feet; wand raised in one hand and my godson clutching tightly to the other. _'In a month I'll either be dead or in Azkaban...why didn't I listen to myself in the beginning? Why-'_

My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure I was going to be sick as, slowly, almost as though it were in slow motion, the door was pushed open and Lucius' foot appeared. I neither gave Lucius time to speak nor I time to think...

"_Petrificus totalus!_"

With an expression of astonishment, the elder Malfoy's features promptly froze and his arms snapped sharply to his side before falling backwards with a ground shuddering crash. Immobilised. Harmless.

* * *

I remember very little of what happened directly after that. All I remember thinking was that it was _imperative _that we got out of there as quickly as possible... but I could neither move nor look away from the place where Lucius lay. I was as paralysed as he. Seventeen years of allegiance and friendship had been wiped away with a single incantation... I had just put a curse on one of the most powerful and influential men in England and was about to kidnap his son... _'I should really go see a doctor,'_ I mused. _'I must've gone mad somewhere along the way and not realised it...'_

"Sir, we have to go!"

I could hear him, but I couldn't make sense of what he was saying.

"Sir, _please_!" Draco tugged on my hand, trying to pull me away. "Come on! Before it wears off..."

"It won't wear off..." I muttered, my lips hardly moving. "Not 'til someone removes it." For some reason, I was reluctant to leave. As though, by not moving, I could delay the inevitable or even turn back time and change things...but to what? What else could I have done?

'_Oh god oh god oh god...'_

"_Please_!" My hand was pulled harder, begging me to move.

Slowly, as though waking up from a deep sleep only to find out that your alarm clock has turned itself off, I tore my eyes away from Lucius and shook my head quickly to recover at least _some_ sense.

"Okay," I said brusquely, grasping Draco's hand and giving it a quick, tight squeeze. "Yes...let's go."

If you can't go back, you have to go on. No matter what dangers you are walking into.

* * *

"You two _again?_" the jovial female conductor exclaimed unnecessarily loudly as she exchanged money for tickets. I winced as the other passengers looked over their seats to stare at us. "Weren't you here just the other week?"

"Yes," I replied tersely, glaring at her. "And this time I _am_ kidnapping him. Thank _you_," I half snatched my change out of her poorly manicured hands and turned my back on her to find where Draco had gone to sit down.

"People keep on looking at me!" he protested, swinging his legs sullenly as I sat down. "I don't like it..."

I sighed and slouched down wearily. "Take it as a compliment," I muttered, closing my eyes. I felt sick and my head hurt.

"Sir?" I felt Draco prod me anxiously. "What's the matter? Why did you go all funny back there?"

"Don't talk to me right now...I'm not in the mood for it."

"But _Sir_-"

"Draco!" I snapped. "Not. Now."

I listened to Draco grumbling quietly to himself for the rest of the journey, the constant _thump...thump...thump_ of his shoes rhythmically kicking against the seat jarred. For some reason I was angry, _really_ angry, but with what I couldn't say. Perhaps it was with Draco, or with myself, or with the fact that I was buckling under the pressure and the responsibility that went with caring about somebody too much... whatever it was, all I could do was to look away and grit my teeth in order to keep from snapping at Draco anymore than I had done already. At least he was taking it well, which was certainly a relief. If anything, he seemed to have forgotten the fact that he had almost jumped out of a _very_ tall tower, I had hexed his father and he was now, effectively, being kidnapped. I sincerely hoped that he understood the possible consequences of what we had done and didn't have a sudden change of heart...

* * *

The curtains of the living room twitched as we approached the front door and before I even had time to raise my key to the lock, the door was yanked open and we were dragged roughly inside. For a person a small stature, my mother had a surprising amount of strength...annoyingly so.

"Well," she said, sounding quite breathless as her head moved quickly to look at me, then at Draco and back again. "Well..." My mother blinked and rubbed her eyes, as though she were having difficulty believing what she was seeing. Then, with a decisive sigh, she set her hands firmly on her hips and looked up at me expectantly, "So, tell me what happened then! I must say I didn't actually think when I said..." she stopped abruptly and bit her lip, clearly thinking better of what she was going to say. "Anyway," her manner suddenly brusque, she nodded her head towards the kitchen. "Why don't I go and stick the kettle on and you can tell me all about, hmm? Come on boy..." she put her arm around Draco's shoulders and I watched from the hall as she lead him into the kitchen. I knew that I should follow and answer the questions and be the responsible one that they expected me to be... but, for once, I couldn't be bothered. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to be sociable. And I didn't want to care about anyone but myself.

With a quick glance to check that I wasn't being watched, I turned my back on them both and strode out, slamming the door shut behind me.

* * *

A/N: I'm a bad ficcer!!! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!!!!! Thank you so so so much who's kicked me to update, I sincerely appreciate everyone's support!! I'm not going to try and excuse my lameness, but it's been a mixture of holidays, family, philosophy and politics exams, The Cold, Luke and just the fact that this chapter was very difficult to get right...

Please forgive me _

Lily xxx


	37. An apology and a short story

**A/N** This is just a little something to say how very sorry I am for not updating and to prove that I have been working very hard on my lit coursework :P You have no idea how grateful I am that people are still showing an interest and I swear that I haven't given up- I have had literature and language coursework due in in the last month so I've been concentrating on that. The story below is my literature coursework which had to be based on a literary novel, so I wrote mine in the style of Ian McEwan. Happily, over the past few days I have had an immense pining for fanfiction and Draco-ness in general so I should have something up soon. Fingers crossed :)

Love you all! Lily xxx

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* * *

****Lavender**

**By Esme Symes-Smith**

_Tick...tick...tick..._

The silver arrow, illuminated eerily by candle light, was watched, as it made its journey around and around the clock face, by the unblinking brown eyes of a small boy with mousey hair and blue-white striped pyjamas. Liam stood- a small unimposing figure- just in front of the cold, marble fireplace, pale face turned upwards as he waited. And waited. And waited. In his hands, he clutched a sheaf of papers, each one covered in childish, barely legible hand writing. The result of two days' obsessive work and Liam's greatest master piece, which had caused him to miss a breakfast _and_ a lunch, much to his mother's dismay. It was a present, an epic novel of three parts, to herald the return of Father and to prove (although in what way he was not quite sure) that it was more important and worthwhile to remain at home instead of going off having adventures or meeting people or whatever else Father did when he was away.

_Tick...tick...tick..._

Ten thirty, that was when Father was supposed to be home. That's what Mother had said this morning, casually, uncaringly over breakfast as she sipped lightly at her coffee. Liam had listened with a frown, then hurriedly excused himself before dashing away to complete his staggeringly original and obviously bestselling manuscript. Nobody knew what he doing, Liam had made certain of that. He wanted it to be a surprise, for Father only. It had to be special... Luckily, Mother had been _Entertaining_ this afternoon with ladies who wore big feathers in their hats and made you sneeze if you went too close because their clothes smelled too strongly of soap and flowers and old books. She didn't care what he was doing as long as he kept out of her way.

_Tick...tick...tick_

He was supposed to be in bed. Asleep. They would be angry if they knew he was still up...but Liam was almost- no, he _was_ certain that Father would forgive him tonight, once he realised how much Liam had put into his surprise, once he knew how much he had been missed...Liam hoped- _really_ hoped- that Father was in his Good Mood tonight...

_Tick...Tick...Tick..._

Suddenly, the mechanical whir of the wheels stirred the soft velvet of the silence and the clock struck one. Finally. Heart pounding, half from excitement, half from nerves, Liam gathered his wits, took a long, deep breath and padded his way silently across the carpeted floor of his room, unslippered feet noiseless and relishing the softness of the floor. A hand, small and pale, reached out to grasp the bronze handle of the door, which turned easily in his childish fingers and allowed the boy to cross the threshold out into the dark, forbidding wilderness that was The House.

A thousand portraits watched sternly as the small boy with bare feet, a large wad of papers and an eager expression hurried past, through dark corridors filled with shadows and around endless corners- each leading Liam deeper and deeper into the heart of The House. His lips moved silently as he went, counting each step almost obsessively. His eyes were bright and alert- constantly moving and seeking anything out of place that could signal danger. There never was, but you could never tell with these old buildings... or so the house-keeper was always saying and Mother was always telling him to 'Mind what Mrs Cookson tells you, Darling. She knows about these things.' Liam was never _quite_ sure what 'these things' were, but it was easier to just agree and pretend to understand when Mother has been sorting through the cabinet in the drawing room. Which she seemed to do quite a lot when Father was away... Liam found himself confronted by a very tall, very intricate and more than slightly austere looking doorway

Six hundred and forty three steps later (including staircases and excluding wrong turns),. Hesitantly, heart thumping as loud and as steady as the hands of the clock had been ticking, the boy raised a hand, clenching it to form a fist with an almost reluctant slowness. In all the excitement of Father coming home and with all the exhilaration which came from producing an obviously best-selling manuscript, Liam had quite forgotten that it was possible that Father wouldn't be _quite_ as glad to see him or as appreciative of Liam's efforts as he had been envisioning...

But he was here now, Liam decided resolutely. There would be no point in _not_ doing it. What was the worst that could happen anyway?

Chin raised and eyes bright with determination, Liam took one more step towards the ominous wooden door. He clenched his teeth so tightly together that he half expected them to crack, took a deep breath to gather courage and...

The heady, distinctive scent of lavender oil and libraries accosted the boy's senses suddenly and violently, making his head spin- both from the impact of the aroma and from the confusion that this caused.

It made no sense, thought Liam dizzily. Father's study _never_ smelt of flowers, Mother only wore the one that smelt a bit like ginger-bread and nobody else was ever allowed in because that was the rules! The only people who ever wore such things were Mother's friends, but why would _they_ be in there? It was impossible because Liam had seen with his own eyes when they had all filed out through the front door and into their cars with the doors held open by men in black jackets and shiny caps.

Convinced that he had been mistaken and had maybe imagined it, Liam inhaled deeply again, just to be sure, just because it was ridiculous to think that Father's study smelt like ladies' perfume.

But the same sweet scent filtered steadily through the slight gap in the door and tickled the little boy's nose, just like it always did. Liam knew what was going to happen even before his body did, but it was too late to do anything to stop it. There was no time to run and no way that he would be able to silence himself. Sure enough, in less than a second, the internal earthquake had begun. Liam bit down hard on his lip, in one last desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable.

But it was no use.

Bony fingers tightened around the sheaf of paper, creasing it horribly.

His small, pyjama clad body heaved and his eyes clamped shut...

And Liam sneezed. Only once, but with such a strength that it echoed through the dimly lit halls and stirred the silence of the sleeping household.

Before the little boy mind could process what had just happened and think of a way to escape trouble, the door was wrenched open from inside furiously, violently and out stepped Father- tall, smartly dressed in the grownup version of the suit that Liam had in his wardrobe and glaring down at him with such anger on his face that Liam almost shrank back in fear. The boy didn't notice the way that Father's hair was sticking up in odd places, nor the fact that his tie seemed to have come loose...

"_What_," said Father in his dangerously calm voice that always sent shivers down Liam's spine, "do you think you are doing out of bed?"

"I...I um...I didn't mean-"

"Answer the question!"

Liam flinched, his mouth going completely dry, and tried to remember why _he_ was out of bed... but he couldn't remember. His palms were sweating and his head was spinning and his feet were suddenly cold and he couldn't for the life of him remember what he was doing in front of Father's study.

A strong hand lashed out and grabbed the front of the boy's pyjama shirt, jerking him roughly forward. "_Well?"_

"I-I don't know...I'm sorry...please..."

A movement behind Father caught Liam's attention suddenly- a flash of brightly coloured feathers and green silk swept briskly around a corner and out of sight before he could see who it was properly. But he was _certain_ that he'd seen those feathers before...

"Who's that?" asked Liam with a frown, trying to twist his head so that he could see better. "Why's Mother's friend here? I saw them go home. Does Mother know? Is there-"

"_Silence!_" Liam froze and promptly shut his mouth. "There will be no more questions," Father hissed, gradually loosening the grip he had on Liam. "You will go back to your room, _immediately_, and no more will be said on the matter," there was a slight hesitation then, "Providing you say nothing to your mother."

"Why?" asked Liam before he could stop himself, frowning deeply with tiredness and confusion.

"_Because I said so_! Now get out!" These furiously spoken words were accompanied by a hard shove, causing Liam to stumble backwards and fall hard against the wall.

The door was slammed shut, accompanied by a strong waft of lavender scented air.

Silence engulfed the little boy who sat, stunned and shaking, against the grey stone of the wall. A sheaf of papers lay strewn and forgotten around him.


	38. With Love

**_Hello lovely ones :) So, this was almost a farewell, but it made me too sad..._**

**_Just wanted to let you know what's going on- I am about to finish my A-levels and, in September, I have an unconditional to study Literature and Creative Writing at Aberytywth Univerity! So exciting :D _**

**_I am also working on my first ever original novel (Although there is a lot of Draco-ness in one of my main characters!) of which there is an extract below. Basically, I am focusing on developing my own style and will not be properly returning to fanfiction for a while :)_**

**_Thank you all so much for your support and these last five years have been more than I could ever have hoped for in encouraging me to what I love. Thank you thank you thank you!_**

**_Please visit me and say hello on my (brand new) blog, where I shall be posting stories :) And I'm sorry that I couldn't give Draco and Severus a happy ending..._**

**_All my love, Lily 3 3 (my blog is ladylilymalfoy . blogspot . com, no www . :) )_**

**- ****Prologue: The Garden –**

_Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she stepped purposefully up the path, towards the imposing stone building which looked down on her curiously; the windows staring out of bright, diamond panes, the stone shining its welcome in the moonlight._

_The great luminescent orb hung as though on a string and cast a beautiful silver light down upon the garden, shrouding the hedges and flowers in a soft silk shawl. The ghostly heads of twenty peacocks peeped inquisitively around the shrubbery, following her every step with their fascinated shining black eyes._

_She paid them no heed, barely even aware of their presence._

_Eyes never once straying from the front entrance, she walked with resolve, determined to reach further than the night before. So absorbed was she by her unwavering tenacity, she no longer noticed the unfamiliar skirts that whispered about her ankles, nor the strange silk slippers that wrapped themselves around her feet and which her mother would say were quite inappropriate. Nor did she notice that she left a little bit of something behind with every step, and that, when finally she reached the grand, stone porch, all that was left of her was herself._

_The sentinel flicker of torchlight illuminated the high ceilinged foyer, tossing amber shadows carelessly about, which skittered across the black and white chequered marble of the floor and danced delightedly at her feet as she stood still, looking all around her._

_The doors at each side were shut doggedly tight and the further up the velveted staircase her eyes travelled, the deeper and more impenetrable the darkness became._

_She hesitated, heart pounding beneath her satin bodice. But what a waste it would be merely to stand there. 'Like a lemon,' as Jonathan would say._

_There must be something more…_

_The ornately carved banister was smooth beneath her touch as it lead her up the staircase, forcing her to climb… and climb… and climb. There couldn't have been more than thirty steps and yet, somehow, she could never seem to quite reach the top…_

_Eventually, inevitably, her legs began to ache with weariness, her fingers slipped from the wood and she sunk down onto the carpeted stairs, exhausted. _

_With an overwhelming dizziness, her eyes slipped shut, her head drooped and she awoke with a jolt._

* * *

**- ****Chapter One: **_**Dreamers**_**-**

She could never describe the dream after waking, no matter how vividly she could imagine it, no matter how many times she returned there after the lights had been extinguished. Whenever she tried to look close enough to select her words, the wavering scene simply skipped neatly aside, just out of reach of wakefulness.

It was, Susanna often thought bitterly, _extremely_ frustrating and more than a little inconsiderate. Particularly it had been set up so beautifully with 'I had the more interesting dream last night...' But, when asked with a rare genuine interest to please elaborate, the words disappeared completely, as though they have come on with a sudden bout of stage fright, and you are left looking decidedly foolish.

Having been subjected to this demeaning process more times than could possibly be considered decent, Susanna had given up trying to explain it to people; her grownup brother Jonathan, of whom she was very fond and who was lovely in all the ways that a brother could be, listened to her vague yet enthusiastic descriptions, despite the fact that they made next to no sense, and her parents no longer even looked up from whatever it was that they happened to do at the time.

It really was _very_ unsatisfactory.

But, as a compromise, she had found that it was interesting enough to just curl up in an armchair, with her feet tucked up beneath her and her eyes pressed so tightly shut that not a single speck of reality could penetrate her mind, and try to imagine as best she could by using a trick she had discovered where you look, but just to the side rather than directly it was that was hiding from you. That way, Susanna found that she could look a little bit at a time without it seeing her and running away again.

By resting her eyes gently upon the hedge which bordered the pathway, she could watch the house as it inched closer and closer. By turning her chin up towards the purple-velvet expanse of the sky and counting each winking, silver sequin, she could meet the gaze of the inquisitive cluster of peacocks who always crept after her, no less than ten steps behind.

And, by focusing her attention solely upon the elaborately engraves oak of the front door, she could just about make out the silhouette of a person standing at one of the upstairs windows, watching as the ethereal figure of a strange girl walked up their garden path.

* * *

He was the kind of boy who was as content doing nothing as others were doing something. Possibly even more so.

Not that he was doing _nothing_, it simply appeared that way to his parents and to his sisters and to everyone else who looked at him from outside himself. Of course, he understood that lying in the middle of the lawn with his eyes shut could very easily be misconstrued as 'doing nothing', when, in reality, he was swimming over the clouds and through the deep, endless blue, lead by a flock of geese who were migrating to Canada. Similarly, no one seemed to understand that curling up in one of the deep-seated armchairs in the library and staring out the window wasn't simply curling up in one of the deep-seated armchairs in the library and staring out the window, but actually embarking upon a perilous mission to rescue the beautiful princess with purple eyes from the evil bearded warlock who was holding her captive in a tiny fortress in the middle of the ocean.

He had _tried_ to explain and describe his adventures to those who disapproved of his inactivity, but all he received for his efforts were either a dismissive smile on a day when he was being 'dreamy', or trouble when he was 'just bloody lazy'. The type of day it was didn't seem to matter in the slightest to his sisters; they sighed and rolled their eyes every day to show him how childish such they thought he was.

There used to be only dreamy days when no one seemed to mind that he wasn't completely concentrating on the food set before him at meals, or that he didn't always hear the question the first time round. People used to tolerate the fantastical tales escaping his lips as he excitedly related the latest day dream. Even his sisters.

But as the child grew into a boy, so the dreamy days grew less and the lazy days became more frequent. His tutor, a grey man with a grey beard and a high forehead who was hired to teach him useful things, complained regularly and loudly to his father, who in turn gave him trouble regularly and angrily. And the taller he grew, the louder his tutor complained and the louder his tutor complained, the angrier the trouble he received.

And the angrier his father grew, the more stifling the house became.

"Why can't you be sensible?" his mother and sisters hissed. "Why can't you be serious?"

The answer to this was simple; "Because I can't help it!" But voicing it only meant more trouble, and he truly did want to please his mother. So he promised to try and then she would smile and kiss his forehead, and his sisters would sigh and roll their eyes at him.

But he would never really try. Dreams were far more exciting than real life and he never wanted to be as dull and as tedious as his sisters were, nor as sensible and as serious as his father.

Besides, where would be the fun in life be if not in dreams?


	39. Part Six 1

A/N: So here's an actual chapter...Yes, I am probably even more surprised than you are! And there's another one half done too so yaaaay! Hope it's ok :) Lots of love, Lily xxxx

* * *

Draco's head whipped around as the front door slammed, heart leaping uncomfortably into his throat as he rushed forward to wrench it open and peer outside; The path was empty, providing no clue as to where Severus Snape had vanished.

Grey eyes swept frantically over the tiny, ill-kept front yard, the gradually encroaching hopelessness rendering him immobile, frozen to the threshold of Number Five Spinner's End, and praying with every ounce of his young soul that his godfather would appear and come back as though nothing had happened and everything was fine and they would all be sure that they had done the right thing by running away and coming here, no regrets, and everyone would be happy and-

"Draco?"

But Severus didn't appear. He wasn't coming back. And it was all his fault…

"Draco, love, come inside-"

But there was nothing he could have done differently, Draco thought desperately, unnoticed tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't have stayed there, he couldn't have! And he had asked before, a hundred times, for help… There was nothing else he could have done!

Maybe… maybe he shouldn't have asked at all, Draco wondered, chewing fretfully at his lip. Maybe he should have just sorted it out himself, accept it like Father kept telling him to, let Sir get on with his own life without having to worry about him. He had asked for too much, gone too far, and now… and now it was too late, he had pushed the only person who really cared about him away.

Eileen watched, brow knotted with pity, as Draco's small body trembled and his head fell forwards. _'Damn you Severus!'_ she cursed him, not really meaning it, folding her arms around Draco's shoulder's and pulling him close.

He was neither willing nor resistant as Eileen gently lead him back inside the house; the drumming of his heart beneath his shirt drowned out the sound of his thoughts, numbness sweeping through him and anaesthetizing the pain of the guilt and the loss.

Sitting Draco down upon the threadbare seat of the living-room sofa, Eileen crouched down and looked up into the young, ashen face. He looked no better than he had the first night she had set eyes upon him, as though none of the good they had done had happened at all… and it broke her heart.

"Draco-"

"He hates me," Draco told her in a whisper, a tear splashing hard onto his lap. "I-I didn't know what else to do, I just… I just wanted…" His voice cracked and dissolved into sobs. "And now he h-h-hates me!"

"What happened Draco?" asked Eileen softly, needing to understand before she could reassure the little boy in the way he needed to be; Severus had a tendency to take himself away from everyone when he was unable to deal with things, and the speed of his return rested wholly on the gravity of the situation.

"I made him hex Father," came the murmured reply, words heavy with guilt. "I made him kidnap me. He didn't want to, but I made him…" Draco lowered his head in shame as he related, to the concerned Eileen, the events leading up to his abduction- the ghost in his room, the confrontation with his father and his argument with Severus, threatening to pitch himself out the window…

"I didn't know what else to do!" Draco finished miserably. "I needed him to help me but he wouldn't, so I pushed and I pushed and now he's gone!"

"Oh Draco…" Eileen sat back on her haunches and held her head in her hands. She didn't know what to say or what to do that would be of any use; this child needed more than mindless words of comfort. Fear for her son twisted her stomach- even on the off-chance that Lucius decides not to take legal action against Severus, it was a precarious position to be in, to have Lucius Malfoy as an enemy. But, as she looked into the frightened eyes of Draco, she knew that the boy was right- There was nothing else that could have been done.

At least there was one thing she could be certain of, "He doesn't hate you Draco," she tried to reassure him. "He's just… He'll have a lot to think about, after tonight, a lot to take in."

Draco gave a small nod, unconvinced.

"Listen," Eileen continued, taking his small hands in her own. "Long before you, for many many years, Severus and your father have been very close friends. All through school and after it- why else would Severus have been chosen to be your godfather?" Her expression warmed as she reminisced. "Your father sometimes came here for the holidays, did you know that? They were as close as anything, although I'm at a loss to know how it worked; they were so different and fighting constantly! They always managed to resolve it though, somehow. But then…" her voice trailed off, hesitating, unsure of how to word what needed to be said next.

Draco sighed despondently. "But then I spoiled it."

"No love," Eileen shook her head adamantly, her expression deadly serious. "I don't think it's much to do with you at all, really. When you came into the equation, it brought out a side of each of them that the other could neither accept nor forgive; Severus cannot accept the way in which your father is choosing to bring you up and your father cannot forgive Severus for interfering in something that is so personal and private to him. Neither will relent, they are at an impossible impasse and have been for quite some time it seems…" She sighed heavily and shrugged. "It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. He has always wanted to put you first, you know," Eileen told Draco, full of sincerity, anxious to make him understand. "But his friendship with your father has always come between doing what he knows to be right and doing what is easy. Now, there is nothing left, and it will be a while before Severus can come to terms with that. So you see?" She rose to her feet with a small smile. "He did not leave because of you, Draco, and he will come back to us. He just needs time to think, that is all."


	40. Part Six 2

A/N: Oh my Rowling! It's good to be back ^_^ nothing makes me smilier than to see people enjoying my fic again ^_^ Thank you lovelies for reviewing! GOOD NEWS! In a moment of epiphany-like magnitude, I have worked out the ending, how to _get_ to that ending, how to keep it relatively canon _and_ how to put in all the bits I originally wanted to! in other words THIS FIC WILL BE COMPLETED! Yaaaaaay! 3 Good times :D Enjoy the chapter! Lily xxxx

* * *

Several days passed the residents of Spinner's End by and still there was no sign of Severus, either in writing or in person. Peace existed within the walls of the house but an atmosphere of uncomfortable dissatisfaction lingered, making both the elder Snapes and Draco fidgety and unable to relax. On the plus side, there had also been no murmur from Malfoy Manor or any unwelcome visit from the Auror Department. In that respect, no news was most certainly good news, but it was not enough to release them for the limbo-like state in which they were trapped.

None of them talked about it – What was there to say? – but it was on each of their minds and they all knew what the others were thinking , every time the front door didn't open and every time the post didn't come.

Anything was better than nothing, anything allowed them to take a step forward, anything was progress… But no anything came.

"We can't go on like this for much longer," Eileen muttered to her husband after a whole week had bid them good-day and taken its leave. "Something has to be done."

"Mmm…" replied Tobias, not sounding at all convinced. His eyes drifted through the murky glass of the kitchen window to settle upon Draco, who was crouched besides a bed of yellow marigolds, carefully pulling up the weeds as he had been shown earlier. "It just seems a shame to spoil things."

With a sigh, Eileen followed his gaze, biting her lip regretfully. He was right, she supposed, in a way. But still…

"He isn't happy you know," she said, as though it explained everything.

"He isn't unhappy either," came the quick response. "Isn't that the main thing?"

"What about Severus?"

"Severus is an adult. He can take care of himself."

Eileen's countenance darkened at the coldness of her husband's words. It was odd, she noticed, she had never worried much about Severus whilst he was growing up, but now… She was keenly feeling all the maternal anxieties she ought to have felt a long time ago, and they were all coming at once.

A hand was laid gently upon her shoulder. "Don't go chasing him, Eileen," Tobias warned her. "You know that he won't thank you for it."

"Yes," she agreed reluctantly, "I know."

'_But what if he's been arrested?'_ her mind screamed. _'What if he's been murdered and fed to a pack of Krups?'_

"Chin up Chick," Tobias squeezed his wife's shoulders and pecked her on the forehead, leaning down to do so. "You know what that boy's like. He'll only appear when you've stopped worrying about him. Like buses."

And with that final piece of wisdom imparted, he left Eileen to go out and inspect the marigolds, very much hoping that Draco hadn't pulled up all the flowers and left the weeds to blossom.

Frowning, Eileen turned back to the colander of potatoes she had left by the sink; accompanied by the distinctly niggling suspicion that Tobias' metaphor was not quite right.

* * *

She told no-one that she was going when, finally, she could no longer bear to sit idly by and read Dickens. Eileen waited until Draco and Tobias were safely preoccupied with the harvest of the extensive crop of green-beans, before tiptoeing upstairs to retrieve her old wand from the back of her bottom draw.

The smooth, deliciously familiar yew tingled in welcome beneath her touch – warmth flooding from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet. Eileen smiled to herself, remembering back to the first time she had felt that warmth, all those years ago in Olivander's shop…

Oh how she had missed this!

Creeping quickly back downstairs, Eileen scrawled a brief note to Draco and Tobias – _Gone out for the afternoon. Will be back asap. E. – _before slipping out the door and disapparating in a whirl of dark hair.

* * *

Eileen did not wait to be announced upon her arrival at Malfoy Manor; she strode straight past the house-elf who opened the door to her, ignored the surprised stare of Narcissa as she looked up from her reading in the sitting-room and marched straight up the staircase and along the corridor to where Lucius Malfoy was sure to be hiding; She was certain that, had she hesitated for even a moment, her nerves would definitely cripple her.

Arriving at her desired location, Eileen gave herself a moment to put on her best 'I-am-your-elder-and-better' face took a deep breath, and walked swiftly into the study, head held high.

She was greeted with a scowl, a quirked eyebrow and a petulant, "What do you want? Go away!"

"Don't be silly please." Eileen fought back a smile as she shut the door behind her. "I'm glad to see your up and walking again."

The scowl deepened even further. "I suppose you were told the whole story by your damnable son?"

"No," she took the seat that was not offered to her. "By yours actually. Severus has disappeared for a while."

"_What_?" Lucius stared furiously. "So where is Draco now?"

"At home. You needn't worry."

With a hiss, Lucius pushed himself back in his chair. "So he kidnaps my son and dumps him with you? And I thought his idiocy could no longer surprise me…" Sharp grey flashed up, "I expect the boy to be returned to me soon, you know." It was not a request.

Eileen rearranged her skirts about her knees. "And that is why I have come."

"Oh yes?" Lucius could not keep the surprise from his voice. "I admit, I was expecting more of a struggle-"

"I'm not giving him back," Eileen snapped. "Not right away anyway. I believe that Severus acted for the right reasons, removing Draco, and I intend to support them both."

"I could have you both arrested," snarled Lucius temper snapping. "I could have the Ministry bring Draco back and you both thrown into Azkaban!"

"And what good would that do?" She met his eyes unflinchingly. "Don't be childish, Lucius, you are perfectly capable of fighting your own battles."

"This is a battle I should _not_ have to fight! It is completely ridiculous that any of this is happening at all!"

"Then why haven't you?" Eileen asked quietly, with a knowing, Snape-ish air.

"Why haven't I what?"

"Why haven't you summoned the Aurors?"

Lucius' expression shifted from angry, to sullen, to faintly regretful. He looked away from the older woman.

Eileen's face softened. "Severus didn't want to do what he did," she told him, "He had no choice."

"Of course he did," Lucius spat, "Don't try and tell me that he was Imperio'd." He frowned as Eileen looked suddenly anxious. "What? What is it?"

She swallowed, reluctant to tell him. Then finally, quietly, "It was Draco. He said… He said that, if Severus didn't take him, he would… and he almost…" But she couldn't say it out loud, the words stuck in her throat.

"_What_?" Impatience burst from Lucius' mouth. "He almost _what_?"

Eileen's answer came almost apologetically, "Draco nearly pushed himself out his bedroom window."

Lucius paled instantly; any trace of anger replaced by an equal combination of fear and hurt, rendering the man speechless.

"He's okay," Eileen tried hopelessly. "Severus managed to stop him. He's okay now."

Swearing under his breath, Lucius shook his head and shut his eyes, as though by not acknowledging it, he could pretend that it hadn't happened. Eileen watched Lucius closely, waiting in silence for him to speak. She would _make_ him face this, she thought grimly. Even if she had to sit here all day, she would not let him disregard this.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," Lucius muttered after many minutes had stretched between them. He spoke more to himself than to her. "It should never have become this complicated."

"Being a parent is never simple," Eileen gently offered. "And being a good one is near impossible."

"If he had just left us alone," a flash of anger had returned, "then _none_ of this would have happened!"

Eileen's patience was thinning. "It is _not_ everyone else's fault!" she snapped back. "Unless you grow up and start accepting responsibility, at least partly, for what has happened, _you will lose your son_. Is that what you want?"

"What I _want_ is to be left alone!"

"_Will you not listen_?" Eileen was blazing. "If you had been 'left alone', Draco would be dead! Do you _not_ understand?" she was half pleading with him. "If you had been left alone, that Southard man would still be-"

"That _wasn't_ my fault!" Hands were slammed down hard upon the dark wood of the desk, grey eyes desperately defensive. "_I_ stopped that! _I_ got rid of him!"

"It's not _enough,_ Lucius! Do you not know why that happened in the first place?"

"I don't _want_ to know!" Eileen was quite sure the man was just moments away from actually putting his fingers in his ears. "It doesn't matter, it's over now!"

She surveyed him coldly, then said to him slowly, "If you do not make changes, history will be repeated."

Lucius Malfoy flinched.

"I know," Eileen continued, "that you are only trying to do what is right, but you are _breaking him_. Severus is the only thing holding that boy together, but it's not enough. He _loves_ you, Lucius, he _needs_ his father."

With a small sigh, Lucius averted his eyes. "No he doesn't. He hates me. He told me so himself."

"Well, it's not as though you have given him much choice in the matter, is it?"

"It is better to be obeyed than to be loved," intoned Lucius.

A Snapeish eyebrow was raised, "Why?"

"Well…" Lucius pondered this for a moment, not having ever considered such an answer before. "It's more practical," he answered with slight uncertainty, "Logistically."

'_Well that just about sums it up,'_ Eileen through grimly. _'Deary me…'_

"It's not working very well though, is it?" she retorted, "_Logistically_."

"I have tried. I have _always_ tried." Bitterness sharpened his words.

Seeing an opportunity, Eileen pressed him further, "_But_…?"

"But it isn't working."

"_So_…?"

Lucius glared at her, before conceding, "So something has to change."

"See?" Eileen smiled brightly, if a little smugly, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"_Easier said than done_," Lucius ground out. "I can do _nothing_ with Severus encouraging rebellion and Draco hanging onto his every word. Surely you understand that I cannot allow that?"

"I do. But," she put in quickly, before Lucius got the wrong idea, "Nothing will be achieved if I simply send Draco home, we'll just be right back to where we are now in a month or less."

"Then what do you propose?"

"I propose," Eileen sat up a little straighter, hands folded carefully in her lap, "That Draco returns to you and that you bring him up as you see fit, but he comes to _us_ when you find yourself…not coping as well as you'd like."

The implication that he could not cope grated on Lucius' nerves. "I am _perfectly_ capable-"

"I never said you weren't," snapped Eileen, cutting short the rant before it could begin. "But if you want to fix your relationship with your son, you are going to have to accept help.

Lucius opened his mouth instinctively to argue and then shut it again promptly. He sighed, long and defeated, "I know."

"Then you will try?"

"Yes, I will try."

Relief spread through Eileen's bones like a bath of warm water. "And you will send Draco to us when you think either he or yourself is becoming uncontrollable?"

Lucius nodded. "I will." Then, as an afterthought, "Why are you doing this? Why are you so keen to help?"

"Because," Eileen shrugged, "Draco's a good kid and we enjoy having him around. Because it is important to Severus. And because I remember, when you were fourteen, saying how much you didn't want to turn into your father. Do you remember saying that, Lucius?"

Proud features twitched into an expression that Eileen, nor anyone else, had seen for many years. "Yes. Frequently."

It was as though clarity had finally descended upon the man who had been so set upon one goal that he forgotten how to achieve it. As understanding cleared the cobwebs that had clouded Lucius' vision for so long, Eileen dearly wished that Severus could have been here to see it…

"Not to mention," she added lightly, "that Draco is most likely going to be the closest thing to a grandchild I'll ever have. So you'd be doing us a favor really, he's brought out a new side of my husband."

"I hope that I get to see this Draco that people are always telling me about," said Lucius a little regretfully. "I don't recognize my son in the way you or Severus talks about him."

"You will," Eileen assured him positively. "It might take a while, but when it does, the choices Severus has made will make sense to you," the end of the sentence was left hanging hopefully. "Forgive him, Lucius, he meant nothing by it. You have been friends for so long, I would hate for it to be thrown away."

"He saved my son's life, I can only thank him," said Lucius simply. "Where is he? I'll write."

The lightness Eileen was feeling diminished slightly. "I don't know where he is," she admitted. "He hasn't been in contact with any of us since dropping Draco off."

"He'll turn up eventually. He always does."

"So I've been told…" Eileen sighed and rose to her feet. "I'd better get back," she said. "I didn't tell anyone I was coming here. Anyway, write to Draco and let him come back to you. I'm sure it won't take long."

Lucius got up to shake her hand, everything that needed be said was passed through the warmth of that one grip.

Except, "Thank you." That needed to be said anyway.


	41. Part Six 3

**A/N: Hello lovely people! I know this is a short chapter, but the next one is well under way so no worries :) In other news, hope the people who went to the premier in London had a great time! I was lucky enough to go see Deathly Hallows Part 2 that night and I can safely say, I don't think anyone will be disappointed! Also got to meet up with PerfectPureBlood and NIccoNicco briefly which made everything even more awesome ^_^ Enjoy the chapter :) xxx**

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I never imagined that I would ever need to write a letter such as this, especially not to my own son. But the very fact that I am compelled to write to you in such a manner appears, to me, to underline the gravity of the situation we have found ourselves in. Having sat here for a considerable amount of time, at a loss to know how to say what needs to be said, I realize that there is only one thing you need to know and only one way to say it; I am sorry Draco, for everything I have inflicted upon you, both directly and indirectly. I am sorry for net seeing what had been going on with William Southard; I am sorry for not accepting responsibility for that and refusing to believe that something needed to be change; and, above all, I am sorry for failing you as your father._

_I hold no grudge against Severus, rather I am thankful that he has always, without fail, had your best interest constantly at heart. I know that, were it not for him, you might not be here now. He has been able to give you all that I have not and I will not try to keep you from him again._

_I leave it entirely up to you as to whether or not you wish to return home. Mrs Snape has said that you may remain at Spinner's End as long as you want to and I will send your belongings to you as and when you require them._

_Only know, Draco, that you will be welcome here whenever you chooses to return and I can only hope that you will be able to grant me another chance to be your father._

_Sincerely, _

_Lucius Malfoy._

Eileen watched Draco closely as he read and reread his father's letter, grateful that Lucius had kept his word to write to Draco and let him come home of his own accord, rather than surprising him with an unannounced visit as she had feared he might.

The boy's expression was unreadable as his eyes flicked this way and that across his father's words, mainly due to the fact that he didn't actually know exactly _how_ he felt. On the one hand, he felt elated that his father had promised to change, that things would be better if he decided to go home, and his first instinct was to do just that. But, on the other hand, he had made his godfather sacrifice so much so that he could stay here… If he went home now, it would all have been for nothing, and if things were to go bad again, if his father wasn't being truthful, then Draco was sure that he would not get a second chance to escape. Besides, he couldn't go back without making amends with Sir first, whether his father was sincere or not.

Carefully, Draco refolded the sheet of parchment and slipped it back inside the envelope.

"Is he being truthful?" Draco asked, looking up at Eileen. "Does Father really means what he's saying?"

The woman nodded, "Yes Draco, he does."

"Mmm…" He turned back to the envelope set before him on the kitchen table, not seeming particularly convinced by her assurance. "He's said things like that before," muttered Draco, fiddling the buttons on his shirt-sleeve. "It always goes back to the same in the end."

At a loss to know how to reassure him that this time _would_ be different, Eileen regarded him gravely. But, for once, there were no time constraints; Draco could have as much time to recover and work things out in his head as he needed.

"He does mean it, Draco," she said simply, laying a hand upon the boy's shoulder. "But no one is going to make you go back before you are completely ready this time. There is no hurry."

"What about Sir?" Every day he begged her for information of Severus and every day she had nothing to give him.

Eileen shook her head apologetically. "Not yet, I'm sorry love. Soon though," she added as Draco sighed deeply and ran his fingers over the ornate wax-seal on Lucius' letter. "I'm sure that we will from him soon. We just have to be patient."

"Yes, I know."

That night, Draco lay awake and pondered; thoughts and plans went around and around his head until he was quite dizzy with it all. It seemed that, as soon as he came to one conclusion, another problem knocked it out the way and as soon as he had solved _that_ one, another problem quickly appeared to take its place. But, really, Draco knew that there was no point even trying to come up with any sort of plan until Sir came back. Whenever that may be…

It had been so long now; he had forced himself to stop worrying about if and when Severus would make his appearance, although Draco still wished, every night on the big star right in front of his window, for it to be soon. Eileen's reassurance that Severus' disappearance was not his fault had, for once, worked and the boy felt as though the whole of Gringotts had been lifted from his shoulders.

It felt peculiar not having to worry about anything, Draco pondered with curiosity. Even if his father didn't mean what he wrote in his letter, he didn't have to worry about being snatched away again, it was up to him when to go, _his_ choice… That was peculiar too, being able to choose for real what he wanted to do, not being pressured either way, not being pushed to do something he didn't want to do.

Perhaps everything _really_ was changing…. Surely the unfamiliar sensation of complete peace was evidence enough?

Sir would know, Draco decided sleepily, taking one last peek between the curtains at his star. _'Come soon, please. Need to ask you lots of questions. Love from Draco.'_

* * *

It was well past midnight when I let myself into the house, moving as silently as a kneazle that doesn't want to be caught stealing the day's leftovers. I had not planned to return home at any particular point, it had to be completely right before I was able to be around people again after the fiasco at Malfoy Manor. I felt guilty, of course, for abandoning Draco so suddenly, but consoled myself with the knowledge that he was safe and cared for at Spinner's End. Besides, I would have been no use to him at all, had I returned sooner.

But, somehow, tonight it seemed right. There is no rhyme or reason, or logical explanation as to _why_ exactly it was so, but looking out across the Hogwarts lake at the moon and the stars, I felt compelled to return to Draco.


	42. Part Six 4

A/N: Sooo…What did everyone think of Deathly Hallows? I have a massive Malfoy rant pending, but I don't want to give too much away to people who haven't seen the film, so I shall hold it in until the next chapter :) Which shouldn't take too long btw :) Just in case people were concerned about the lack of angst, I figured I've put poor Draco through so much, the kid needs a bit of a break. Same with Lucius and Sev tbh, but the angst has, by no means finished ;) I have some _very_ angsty plots planned for later on :) Enjoy the chapter! Love Lily xxx

* * *

"You a dream?" Draco asked sleepily as I knelt beside his bed.

I shook my head in the darkness, smoothing hair away from his face. He looked well, I could definitely see that even despite the lack of light; there were no lines of worry marring his young features as he slept, no fear in his eyes as he awoke… Draco was finally at peace and, for once, I did not have to worry about him. "I promise I'm real."

There was a rustle of bedclothes, then small arms wrapped themselves tightly around my neck.

"I _knew_ you would come back tonight," he mumbled happily into my shoulder.

I don't know exactly what I had been expecting to return to, but it had certainly _not_ been as warm a welcome as this, nor as calm a one. I had no idea what had taken place since leaving Draco to the care of my parents, but whatever it had been had clearly done the boy the world of good.

I cuddled him close, feeling all my worry – or, at least, the majority of it – evaporate.

"How are you Dragon?"

"I missed you," Draco said plaintively, sitting back up, eyes flicking to and fro across my face. "I wished for you every day." But despite the sincerity of his words, there was neither blame nor accusation concealed within them. Could it be, he finally had some trace of faith in me?

With a quick flick of my wand, I lit the half-melted candle beside the bed, illuminating the small room with a warm orange glow. "I missed you too," I assured him. "I'm sorry that I couldn't come earlier-"

But Draco cut my long-planned explanation short with a good-natured shrug. "I knew that you would come tonight," he repeated with a gappy smile. "I knew I just had to wait, then you'd come back."

"I was afraid that you would be angry with me," I admitted. "Or upset, like last time I left you." Of course, there was no William Southard waiting to pounce this time…

Draco looked quickly away at this, a flash of hurt briefly darkening the happiness. "I _was_ upset," he told me quietly. "I thought you went away because you hated me, because of what I made you do to Father. I thought that I had asked for too much by making you kidnap me and that you hated me for it."

I listened to Draco in silence - guilty that I had made him feel like that, even more guilty that I _had_ felt all of those things, as unjustified and unfair as it was.

I could feel Draco's grey eyes watching me intently, waiting to be told that his fears had been entirely unfounded, but the words would not come, not those particular ones anyway.

"Draco," I managed finally, having decided on the way to say precisely what needed to be said," I left because my head was not cooperating in the way that I needed it to and I knew that, had I stayed, I would have done you more harm than good." It was not a lie, any resentment that I had harboured towards Draco had disappeared immediately upon my arrival at Hogwarts. "Too much had happened too suddenly and the only way that I could think about and deal with what had happened was alone."

Draco nodded, "That was what your mother said," he told me. "She said that it wasn't much to do with me at all, that you needed time before you'd come back because you were friends with Father and you'd had to chooses between him and me and it was really hard."

My mother always had been very astute…

"I'm sorry Sir," whispered Draco anxiously. "I really didn't know what else to do."

I managed a small smile. "Don't be. You did right. I'm sorry that I didn't help you sooner. It could all have been avoided if I had."

Shuffling closer, Draco laid his head against my shoulder. "It doesn't matter." And the same peace that I held felt earlier washed through me.

At that moment, all was well.

But I had to ask, even if I was terrified of the answer I would receive, "Has there been any word from your father?"

My heart sank at his answer, "He wrote to me yesterday."

"And?"

"And I don't know," Draco admitted. "I was waiting to ask you." And, with that, he reached across to the small bedside table and pick up a familiar-looking envelope, which h then handed to me.

I read Lucius' letter with as much confusion as Draco had, at a complete loss to know why the most pigheaded man in England had had such a sudden change of heart. _If_ his sentiments were genuine of course.

One passage caught my eye in particular – _'Mrs Snape has said…'_

"So my mother has been in contact with your father?"

Draco nodded. "She went to see him not so long ago," he said, leaning over me to look at the letter, "But she wouldn't say what they had talked about, only that it was for him to say to me. And then he sent me this."

"Indeed…" There was certainly a lot to ponder her; I was finding it immensely difficult to get past the sheer unlikeliness of Lucius' letter, but then again, if anyone had the ability to make Lucius admit that red was in fact blue, it was definitely my mother.

"I will get to the bottom of this tomorrow," I promised Draco. "But I wonder…" musing out loud, I continued, "if it _were_ to be the case that your father has had a change of heart-" or discovered that he possessed one in the first place, "- what do you think you'd want to do?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Draco shifter awkwardly, avoiding my gaze. I noticed his lips moved, but could not catch what he was saying.

"Hmm?"

"I…I don't want to be ungrateful," whispered Draco. "You've done so much so that I don't have to be there…"

"Listen," I reached out to put my arm around Draco's small shoulders. He obeyed, turning his face up towards me. "All I have ever wanted is for you to be safe and happy," The beginning of a smile appeared in the corners of Draco's lips as I spoke. "And if it is possible for you to be both of those things at home with your parents, then it is an ideal solution."

I could see relief wash away Draco's worries and his expression cleared once more, like clouds moving away from the sun.

"I'm glad you've come back," he said with great feeling. "Things seem to make more sense when you're around."

* * *

There was a great deal of clattering of pans and throwing of things into the sink when I appeared in the kitchen the next morning; my mother was _not_ amused with my late night, unannounced arrival.

"You never give me warning, Severus!" she fumed, slamming the kettle down upon the hob. "We wait for weeks and weeks with _nothing, _not even a _postcard _let us know you're alive, and then you think it ok to just _turn up_ as though you had never been gone!" She turned around and glared at me, hands firmly placed on her hips as though, left to their own devices, they would throttle me.

"If I had known when I was going to return, I would've let you know," I lied through my teeth. "But it wasn't something I had really planned."

"And at _midnight_? Any particular reason why it had to be at _midnight_?"

'_So that I would have time to get through the door before being subjected to the Spanish Inquisition…'_

I smiled a fraction too cheerfully, "No, nothing in particular."

"Humph."

And that was that. There was no point interrogating her about Lucius until she had at least partly forgiven me. But, for once, we had time.


	43. Part Six 5

A/N: Greetings! I'm on a role, so the next one should be done soonish, but this seemed like a good place to stop :) Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially people I haven't heard from before! I'm assuming that everyone will have seen DH:P.2 at least once by now, so I shall make the little speech I have been saving up :)

It was a wierd moment for me when I realised that I have given Lucius more credit than Jason Isaacs has, particularly considering all the awful things he has inflicted upon Draco in this story. But I found, at the end of DH, filmLucius completely unredeemed- Voldermort shows him complete contempt, Draco no longer has any loyalty towards his father and Narcissa totally shuns him. I have always believed that no matter how much of an arrogant sonofagoblin Lucius is, his one redeeming quality is that he puts his family first, even if what he does (eg. follow the dark lord untill the bitter end) is stupid, ulitimately he is doing it for them, to make a better life for them. But in DH:P.2 it seems like he has given up completely and doesn't know what the hell he is fighting for and still, in the end, seems willing to sacrafice Draco because pride is more important. I loved what Voldemort said to him, "How can you live with yourself, Lucius?" because that just about sums it up. FilmLucius has nothing left to live or fight for and it is only through Narcissa's and Draco's courage that he can pull a live for himself out of the ruins. It was a very interesting deviation from the books, as I always saw Lucius and Narcissa working on the same wavelength- both knowing what is important and working together to find Draco. But as I said, it was weird to think that my Lucius is more redeemable than Jason's, considering he was my biggest inspiration for the way I saw Lucius as a father...

Anyhoo...On to the chapter :)

* * *

"He's not going back," I said firmly, refusing to blink as I looked at my mother from across the kitchen table. "Not unless it can be categorically proven, beyond any shadow of doubt, that Lucius will be true to his word."

"He has accepted our help and _your_ place in Draco's life,"my mother pushed, clearly trying to contain her frustration. "Can you not see that this is _considerable_ progress?"

"'Progress' is not enough!" I snapped back. "I cannot afford to let Draco go back if there is any possibility of danger. Not after last time. We will not get another chance and I will _not_ gamble with Draco's life!" Folding my arms stubbornly my chest, I sat back. "I would rather take Draco with me to Hogwarts when I leave-"

"I have already said," Mother ground out, glaring at me from across the table, "that we will have Draco here for as long as necessary. Look, I am not arguing with you Severus. Stop trying to see conflict that isn't there!"

I looked away reluctantly, silenced. She was right of course, a she always was.

"I know that you are afraid of failing Draco," my mother offered, her tone softening, "But so is Lucius. I know that you do not believe me," she continued as I gave a short, cynical laugh, "and you have every reason not to, but I _swear_ to you, Severus, that he is as scared as you are and will do anything to ensure that it doesn't happen again." Sincerity radiated from her, begging me to understand, to believe her. And I did. But that did nothing to reassure me.

"I _know_ Lucius," I said softly, silently apologising for being difficult, "I know that he can have the best intentions in the world and truly want to act upon them, but I know also that when he loses his temper he also loses control of himself. I believe you that he is being honest, that he does want to be a better father to Draco, but that will _not_ keep Draco safe. And I _owe_ it to him to keep him safe."

"Have you spoken to Draco about what he wants?"

I gave a half-nod, half-shrug, "Draco is torn between what he wants and what he expects."

My mother nodded thoughtfully to herself. "Understandable. The bond between a parent and child is complicated; it is almost entirely unbreakable, no matter how undesirable it is to either party," she looked meaningfully at me as she spoke, "Draco will always be compelled to return to his father, even if he knows it is not good for him. No matter what Lucius does, Draco will always want to believe the best in him."

"This is doing _nothing_ to reassure me, you know..."

My mother shook her head as though to shoo away a fly. "Forgive me. A Tangent. Anyhow," she rose and gave me a bright, slightly sardonic smile, "ultimately, it's your call Severus."

"Oh yes," I frowned, eyes narrowing, "And how did you reach such a conclusion?"

"Draco trusts you," came the simple reply. "He values _your_ judgement above anyone else's, even his own. If you tell him that it is safe to return home, or otherwise, he will listen to you and act upon it."

I considered this; it certainly was the case that I had the power to make Draco's mind up for him, and perhaps it was also the case that Draco was too young to make such a decision on his own, that I, as his acting guardian, should make it for him...

But it wouldn't be right. Draco deserved more credit than that.

I shook my head. "No, this is something Draco has to decide for himself. He must do what is right for him."

"Hmm." My mother pursed her lips disapprovingly, then said snidely, "Are you sure it isn't just a case of not wanting the responsibility of making a wrong choice, Severus?"

I flinched, shocked and hurt at the callousness with which she spoke. "I will support Draco with whatever he chooses to do," I snarled, rising to stand a whole head above her, my hands clenched in anger by my side. "Of _course_ I do not want the responsibility of encouraging him to do something that isn't right, but if I didn't think that Draco was capable of knowing what he wants I _would_ make that decision for him!"

My mother scowled up at me, then shrugged and said flippantly, "Fine. If you insist."Before turning her back on me.

* * *

"But I don't _know_ what I want!"

It wasn't as easy as I had hoped, letting Draco take the reins of own life; having never really had opinions taken into account before, he was extremely reluctant to voice them now.

"No one else can know what you want," I reminded him gently, making the boy scowl. "Everyone will respect your decision, Draco, no matter what that may be."

Draco chewed his thumb doubtfully, pondering it all over in his head.

"What I want..." he said slowly after many minutes of contemplative silence, "If I could have anything, what I want is for Father to come here, so's I could talk to him, and then I'd know wouldn't I?"Grey eyes flicked up, anxiously seeking my approval.

"If that is what you want, that is what we shall do."

"Mmm..."

He didn't seem particularly convinced.

"Draco?"

Never for a moment ceasing the nibbling of his thumb, the boy raised his head. I could see nervousness threatening to overwhelm him; his movements were becoming stiff and his eyes seemed twice as big as they had been only minutes ago.

"Draco, if you don't want to... if you aren't ready-"

"No, I do...I am." He gave a decisive nod, as much to convince himself as to convince me, "I'll reply to Father's letter and say that's what I want to do." Not seeming at all reassured, Draco stood up looking slightly dazed, then murmured, "I'll go do it now..."

* * *

_Father,_

_Forgive me for not replying to your letter more quickly. I wanted to wait until Sir came back so it would be easier to work things out and he has and it is a bit but not very because I don't know what to do at all really, I feel all torn into two. Sir says I ought to decide it all for myself, but it's hard to because I don't want to bother anyone or get it wrong, so I was thinking maybe if it's all right and not inconvenient, could you come here perhaps? I don't mind when, whenever's convenient, but I thought it might help._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy._

Allowing the breath he had held in as he wrote to be released, Draco laid down his pen and, before he could lose his nerve completely, slipped it into the envelope Sir had given him and sealed it.

Maybe Father wouldn't reply, he thought hopefully. But really, he knew that that wouldn't make him feel any better. This was something that Draco knew he had to face and the less he avoided it, the easier it would be to do so with courage.

Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Lucius read his son's letter with more relief than he would ever care to admit. He had been so sure that he would not get another chance, that Draco would never want to set foot in this building again... Understandably, too.

Lucius had never believed in any kind of god but, as he prepared to reply to Draco, he thanked whatever being there was out there that he had been granted one more chance.

* * *

_**July 28**__**th**__** 1988**_

We all agreed that it would be best if Draco was left alone with his father- Well, my mother took a lot of convincing, but she saw sense eventually- and so, when the agreed time arrived, my parents and I retreated to the garden, far away enough to them privacy yet close enough that we might step in should the need arrive.

Draco was nervy and skittish for the whole day before, despite our assurances that it was all being done on his own terms. He never once, however, voiced any desire to back out, although I could see many instances of just that in his eyes as the time drew nearer.

"It'll be ok," I promised, hugging Draco close. He clung on for a few seconds too long and, for a moment, I was worried that he would call it off. But he didn't.

Gathering his wits, Draco pulled away and nodded silently.

As I opened the door to the back garden, the bell rung out the front and I prayed that I had told Draco the truth.


	44. Part Six 6

'_It's ok,'_ Draco told himself, forcing his feet to carry him towards the front door. _'It's on _my_ terms, _my_ choice...'_ Feeling slightly faint, the boy reached out with a trembling hand to grasp the door handle, warm in his clammy palm.

It took two attempts before he managed to heave the heavy door open, needing to use the full strength of both arms.

Lucius Malfoy stood on the threshold of Number Five Spinner's End, a distinctly uncomfortable expression upon his pale face. As the door was slowly opened, he tried to smile, looking down at his young son.

"Good afternoon, Draco."

"Good afternoon," came the quiet, correct reply.

Draco stared up at his father with wide eyes, almost as though he were a surprise to see him, thought Lucius.

The elder Malfoy allowed his gaze to sweep across the boy, inspecting him critically for any change; He had grow, for one thing, and his hair was becoming too long and unruly... Lucius noticed also, with a pang of guilt, the long, thin scar which ran from Draco's lower ear down to his jaw. Something would have to be done about that, before it became permanent.

"May I come in?"

"Y-yes. Sorry." Draco hastened to obey, struggling to tug the door open wide enough for his father to enter.

The house seemed much smaller than Lucius remembered it; dark and silent. Eerily so. Everything was still.

"Are we alone?"

Although his father's tone was nothing less than amiable, his words sent a shiver down Draco's spine and he was suddenly very glad that Severus was only a little way away in the garden.

"They thought it would be better that way," he responded, not really knowing why he was speaking so softly, but feeling, somehow, that it was the right thing to do. "They said we should have privacy."

"I see."

They lingered awkwardly in the dim hall, each painfully aware of what needed to be said, but finding it impossible to begin.

'_It was hard enough,_' thought Lucius irately, _'writing it down, let alone saying it out loud...'_ But it had to be done. Best to get it over with...

He took a deep breath, "Draco-"

"Tea?" As though it were the answer to a question he had been puzzling over for a very long time, a look of triumph crossed the boy's face as the idea came to him.

Lucius nodded, relieved, and followed Draco to the kitchen.

* * *

"It took me ages to work out about 'lectricity and such," gabbled Draco as he leant over the too-high work surface, straining to reach the kettle. "But really, it's just like magic trapped inside wires, isn't it? Pretty much the same really..." He filled it with water and then replaced it, flicking the switch before busying himself with looking for mugs, all the while keeping his back to his father.

Lucius placed himself at the table and watched his son work. Dressed in what Lucius recognised as old clothes of Severus', face pink from being too long in the sun, Draco seemed healthy, he mused, and more..._alive_.

"I mean, I know that it _isn't_ the same," Draco jabbered on uselessly, pouring steam into the two mugs he had found, "that would be silly-"

"Draco,"

"- but really it all ends in the same, like light and heat and such-"

"_Draco_."

Reluctantly, Draco stopped talking and turned to his father, chewing his lip nervously.

Lucius hesitated, choosing his words exceedingly carefully, then, "Just milk no sugar."

"Yessir."

"So, how have you been?" asked Lucius once the tea had been meticulously brewed and Draco had taken his place at the opposite side of the table.

"I'm okay."

The conversation not to be opened easily; Draco kept his eyes fixed determinedly on the mug cradled in his small hands, refusing to meet the question stare of his father.

How could it be, Lucius wanted to know, that _this_ boy had tried to kill himself only weeks ago? How could it be that _this_ child had been molested right under his nose and how could it be that he, Draco's father, had been oblivious to the entire thing?

"Draco, look at me please," Lucius reached out to touch Draco's hand. As quick as a whiplash, the boy flinched, jerking his hand away and upsetting the tea.

He scrambled instantly to clean up the mess that had been made, apologising frantically as he did so. "Sorry, sorry..."

"Stop." With a quick incantation, the spilt tea disappeared. Lucius spoke quickly this time, before there could be any more interruption, "I never meant for any of this to happen, Draco."

Trembling, Draco finally raised his eyes to meet his father's, a pained expression upon his face. "Then why did it?" he whispered.

For the first time, Lucius really saw the damage that had been done to his son and, also for the first time, Lucius Malfoy felt a true pang of regret. But it did not help him.

"I don't know," came the useless reply.

It was exactly the answer that Draco had been expecting, but that made it no less painful to hear. With a deep sigh, the boy brushed his hand roughly across his eyes, trying to ignore the emotion bubbling up inside him. But it was no use.

"Well, _I_ know why!" Draco burst out angrily. "Because you made Sir leave me, _that's_ why! _That's_ the reason it all happened! It was all because you hated me for liking him more than I liked you! That's why you let Doctor Southard come and why you don't listen and why you hit me so much, because you're punishing me for having someone else care about me and you're jealous!"

Draco stood in the middle of the Snapes' kitchen floor, shaking from head to foot and panting from the excursion of his outburst. "If you'd tried to care just once," he finished unhappily. "I always wanted you to..." _'I still want you to,'_ Draco's blue-grey eyes- half his mother's, half his father's- pleaded.

This was not, in Lucius' opinion, how it was supposed to be going. He had not come here to be blamed and shouted at by his son! This was _supposed_ to be a reconciliation, not an argument!

But, the elder Malfoy checked himself, the worst thing he could possibly do would be to lose his temper now. The aim of today was to make Draco _want_ to come home and, to do so, Lucius would have to harness every bit of self-restraint he possessed.

"I have only ever wanted what was best for you," he said slowly, for what felt like the hundredth time. "I know and admit that I got it wrong, but my intentions have _always_ been sincere."

Draco stared with pure incredulousness at his father. "How can you _say_ that?" he whispered, "How can you even _believe_ that?"

Lucius' patience was beginning to wear exceptionally thin. "Because it is _true_, Draco!" the words came out much sharper than he had wanted and he closed his eyes a moment to calm himself. "I wish that I could change what had been done, but I cannot," Lucius continued after a while, leaning forward to look Draco directly in the eyes, despite the resistance he could see there. "All I can do is to try and not repeat the mistakes in the future. And I can only do that if _you_ are willing to give me another chance." The question was left to linger in the air, like smoke after a candle has been extinguished. But Draco did not respond.

He had not expected to become so angry so quickly, to feel so resentful. He had expected to feel pleased to be able to spend time with his father without having to worry about getting into any sort of trouble. Disappointment was forcing Draco to question everything he had thought he wanted; Even if things _were_ to change at home, he still wasn't sure that he wanted to be there. Like his father had said, you cannot change what has already been done, and there were too many bad memories at home for Draco to be able to go back and start again.

With a growing fear, Lucius watched as doubt crept across his son's face; Draco was slipping away from him. This would not do at all. Although he had been half-prepared for the possibility that Draco would be reluctant to come home, he had not prepared himself in the slightest for the prospect that he would be completely rejected. This was _not_ something that he could allow to happen.

"I promise you that it will not be the same," said Lucius, fighting to keep the desperation from showing in his voice. "I want to do better, to _be _better..."

And, at that moment, he meant it with every single part of himself.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

Numbness shot through Lucius' body, making the man reel inwardly.

This was _not_ what was supposed to happen!

Draco watched his father absorb what he had said with increasing nervousness, almost backing away as anger flashed across Lucius' features. _'But it will be okay,'_ he assured himself, unconvinced. _'This is still on my terms...'_

"I-I'm sorry," he repeated hesitantly, hoping to diffuse the explosion that was sure to be coming.

A stony silence was all the boy's apology was met with.

Finding the atmosphere suddenly unbearable, Draco rose quickly, trying to excuse himself, "I'm just... I'm just going to get S-"

"_Stay where you are._"

Draco sat, wide-eyed and tense.

"You _owe_ me, Draco," hissed Lucius, his face hard with anger.

The boy winced at 'owe', his heart picking up pace. "I-I don't-"

"_Yes_ you do. I could have had Severus thrown into Azkaban like _that_-" Lucius snapped his fingers, "- and I am still _entirely_ within my rights to do so."

Draco paled, horrified and sickened by what he knew was coming.

"And so," his father continued with an out-of-place smile, "I shall make a deal with you, Draco; agree to come home and I won't send the aurors after Severus."

Not understanding how the situation could be turned with such abruptness, Draco tried to plead, "But...but in your letter, you said-"

"I stand by everything I said," Lucius interrupted smoothly. "It is _entirely_ your choice. I hoped that I would not have to mention this specific... _clause_, but, nevertheless, it is still up to you."

Confidence and control had slipped through Draco's fingers without him even noticing, leaving only the all too familiar feeling of helplessness which was gradually draining him of all energy and fight. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, the boy wondered to himself wearily, if what the letter said was true... It would be a little bit better at least. Bearable.

"Well?" Lucius pressed. "Have we an agreement?"

Draco swallowed hard and then forced himself to nod.

His father smiled and rose serenely. "Good, I am glad that has been decided." Lucius held out a hand to Draco, "Come, let us go tell Severus the good news."

The boy neither smiled nor took the offered hand. He felt empty and angry with himself and didn't want to move anywhere.

The smile faded from Lucius' face and the man knelt down suddenly in front of Draco, grabbing his son's thin harm. "Now you listen to me," he hissed, an inch from Draco's face, "unless you start _trying_ to be positive about this and _stop_ acting like the wounded party, _that_ letter will have left my desk and be on its way to the Ministry before you can blink, do you understand me?"

Draco glared at his father, his indignation such that he barely felt the pain in his arm. "_Fine_."

"No _not_ fine." Lucius' long fingers tightened, making Draco wince. "You _will_ put a smile on your face, you _will_ assure them that you _do_ want to come home and you _will_ swear on your life that you are happy. You will _never_ give Severus a reason to interfere again, Draco, do I make myself clear?"

"_Yes!_" the boy whimpered, pulling desperately at his father's hand. "P-please..."

And Lucius released him, expression softening. "I will not stop you seeing him," he promised Draco. "And I _did_ mean what I said in my letter. But I cannot have you running off to Severus every time things get a little bit difficult, you see?"

Draco nodded tearfully, looking down at the small bruises that had blossomed on his arm.

"Come on then."

And this time, wiping his eyes, Draco obeyed.

* * *

We shook hands, Lucius and I; both, I think, relieved to have been able to mend the friendship. I very much looked forward to being able to spend time with him just as friends, rather than as his employee or as an enemy, as I had definitely become. It would be nice to be able to be able to visit Malfoy Manor without having to worry about Draco. The concerns I had had for my godson prior to Lucius' visit diminished completely after he had left; he was sincere in his promises and his regret and there was no doubt in my mind that Draco would be happier at home now.

We agreed that Draco would stay at Spinner's End until late August, to make the most of the time before I left to start teaching at Hogwarts and, after that, he would return to Wiltshire. My mother made Lucius promise again that Draco would be allowed to come back for a weekend every fortnight and that Lucius would be sure to ask for some time off from fatherhood, should he need it. Lucius promised and, for once, I believed him.

A weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders and, now, I could leave for Hogwarts with a clear conscience.

* * *

A/N: :) A bit longer this time! x


	45. Part Seven 1

A/N: A Chapter of Shorts :) Am half way through the next chapter too! love x

* * *

The rest of the summer passed quickly and easily for, once there was no sense of deadline, we were just able to enjoy the hot, heady days without fearing what would happen at the end of them. Lucius visited my house frequently to spend time with Draco and to build their relationship up from the foundations. This was the first time they had ever really spent any proper time together that hadn't had any particular _purpose_, as such. All the time that Lucius had forfeited when Draco was very young, reading or playing and the like, seemed to be being made up for now. It took a while, for neither of them really knew how to do it, but soon they learned how to relax in each other's company and just enjoy their time together. One day, at a suggestion from my mother, Lucius brought Narcissa with him and tried to teach her how to do it too. It was clear that she enjoyed taking her son to the park, and they made a beautiful picture, the three of them, but it was clear that she didn't really understand or see the point, and Draco later said how uncomfortable it felt with his mother there. But he loved her, so he tried for her sake.

I felt strangely proud of Lucius that he had been sincere in his desire to make amends with Draco, and with me for that matter, for we spent as much time reassessing our own friendship. Many an evening was spent in my living room or in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor in the company of a bottle of something or other, reminiscing about the days that seem so long ago now.

"You know, it's only been just over a decade since we left Hogwarts," Lucius sat back and pondered one night. "It seems more like a hundred sometimes..."

"Mmm that," I agreed sagely. Firewhiskey did not do good things to me.

"D'you miss it, Sev?" continued Lucius with a contemplative expression. "I suppose you must if you're putting yourself through it all over again." He laughed, leaning over and slapping me on the back. The firewhiskey made the acquaintance of the two-hundred year old carpet.

"Potter's a sonofagoblin," I told Lucius with a wise nod.

"Mmm's true," he agreed. "Dead now though."

"As a door post."

"Deader."

"More dead?"

We considered this for a while, before deciding that 'deader' sounded better.

"The boy will be there though," Lucius kindly reminded me.

I scowled. "The sonofasonofagoblin."

If Malfoys had fits of giggles, Lucius was definitely having one now.

Personally, I couldn't see what was so funny. I was being completely serious.

" 'Spose him and Draco'll be in the same year," I mused on. "P'raps friends...T'would be odd."

Lucius stopped giggling and shook a finger at me. "None of that, Sev," he warned. "None of that nonsense. Off to Durmstrang with him, and don't you f'get it!"

I patted him sympathetically. "If you say so."

"But I do," he assured me sincerely. "Really very lots."

"Indeed."

"Indeed."

We sat and contemplated the meaning of life for a while, each lost in our own disjointed thoughts. I liked contentment, I decided. It most definitely suited me and I most definitely felt I was owed a life time of contentment after the couple years I had just had.

I rolled myself over to look at Lucius, was all but drooling in his armchair. "Keep your fingers crossed," I told him.

"Mmmkay."

_**31st August 1988**_

"Are you sure you've got everything?" my mother asked for what felt like the sixtieth time, looking to me,

then Draco and back again.

"Yes," we both assured her in unison. Every inch of the small house had been scoured for rogue socks and missing books, there was absolutely no chance that anything could have escaped.

Still, ever the cynic, my mother pursed her lips and frowned at us. "I know perfectly well that as soon as I go upstairs and look, I will find something either of you have forgotten."

I gave her a challenging look, "Go on then."

She sniffed. "Nope. If you're sure, on your own heads be it."

"Then we'd best be off." I leaned down and kissed her cheek, which she returned as affectionately as she could. "See you soon."

She nodded brusquely, gave Draco a quick hug and waved us away. Although she would never admit it, I know that she had enjoyed having a full house over the last few months and was sorry to see us go. Especially Draco, who my parents had come to think as one of their own. I was almost jealous that they would be spending more time with him than I would be over the coming years... Still, I was thankful that they would be looking over him whilst I was away. Even though the relationship between Draco and his parents had improved more than I could ever have expected it to, they both still needed all the help they could get.

My mother watched from the threshold as we tottered down the path with all our, albeit mostly my, luggage, and waved as we reached the gate.

We waved back, Draco holding on tight to my hand, before we grabbed our bags and apparated away.

* * *

Draco clung to me in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, face buried in my shoulder. I think it had only just struck us both that this was goodbye for quite a long time. I hugged him back fiercely, it was much harder than I had expected it to be. I was not worried or scared for him as I had been, it was just the simple fact that I was going to miss him.

"I'll see you at Christmas ," I murmured into his hair. "I'll bring you back something fantastic and so many stories of Hogwarts that you'll get sick of listening to them."

Draco merely tightened his grip, almost choking me in the process. Gently, I loosened his fingers and put his arms down by his sides. I was grateful that he did not voice what he eyes were saying.

"Miss you," he simply said instead.

"Miss you too."

I leant to kiss his forehead, then quickly turned away before I allowed myself the time to change my mind.

No goodbyes.

* * *

Draco stared at the empty space that Severus had just occupied only seconds before, and waited for the sickness to come. But it didn't. He felt fine. A door opened behind him and Draco turned to see his father. The usual knot in the bottom of his stomach did not appear.

"Welcome home," said Lucius with a slight, almost nervous, curve of his lips. He walked across the marble floor, footsteps echoing from wall to wall, and stopped in front of Draco. They regarded each other. "You okay?"

Draco nodded with a flickering smile.

"Good," said Lucius approvingly. He bent to pick up one of Draco's bags. "Come on then."

And, together, they climbed the grand staircase to Draco's room.

* * *

Life was comfortable at Hogwarts; the teaching was simple and the rest of the time was my own to do as I pleased. I had nothing and no one to worry about besides myself and it was bliss. The students, naturally, took a while to get used to the fact that I had replaced Professor Slughorn but within a month I had established myself in my own way. I didn't care particularly whether I was like or disliked, which I think helped, although I took my responsibilities as the head of Slytherin House very seriously and always left my door open for my students. I wasn't going to pry, but they knew I was there if they needed me.

I didn't hear from Draco as frequently as I expected to, but when I did his letters were always positive and banished any concern I might have had. It seemed that nothing much was happening in Wiltshire; he told me of the books he was reading, of the flying lessons his father was giving him, of his preparation studies for Durmstrang. _'And Mother's trying to spend more time us because Father wants her to, but really I can see that she'd rather not. She doesn't really see why she should.'_ Every single letter was signed with _I miss you. Draco Malfoy._

My mother backed up the encouraging tone of Draco's letters, reaffirming that he was happy and healthy. _'Although,'_ she maintained, _'I'm not sure that that would necessarily be the case were Lucius left entirely to his own devices.'_

It mattered not. The arrangement was working, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

For Draco, things were a little less simple; the good times were very good and the bad times were very bad. Although life with his parents had improved immeasurably, there were still times when his father would lose his temper and lash out, his mother was still hopeless and he was still lonely. But these were more than made up for by the good days, and Draco made it a point only to write to Severus on those occasions; his father's threat was still of the forefront of the boy's mind, but he could not bear to lie. Life was better than it had ever been and Draco made it a point to remind himself of that every time it got hard. Knowing that he'd be staying at Spinner's End every other weekend made time pass much quicker and the space that those weekends gave them all made whatever tensions that may have risen during the previous weeks die down.

He could feel Eileen scrutinising him every time he arrived, deciding, if anything, what she would need to report back to Severus, so Draco was always careful to conceal any bruises that might be left over from her, just in case. If ever she suspected, she never asked and, for that, Draco was grateful.

Still, Christmas could not come soon enough and as Draco counted down the days, the quicker the time seemed to pass.


	46. Part Seven 2

_A/N:_Happy Holidays everyone! This chapter marks a personal landmark for me as I have reached 100,000 words of this fic! So join me in celebration with tea and cake and my endless thanks to you all for sticking with me and Severus for so many words! You all mean the world to me, reviewers ir non-reviewers, and here's my solemn promise to you that this fic **will,** one day, be complete. On another note, fear not, the Draco we see now will be turning into as canon a Draco as I can before the fic is done. As stated previously, my intention is still to follow him through his first year. I have been planning this plot point for several years so I hope it works as well as I think it will! Another thing, I know many of you read this story for the angst and suffering inflicted upon poor Draco, and although his childhood will never turn into an ideal one, I am not going to sacrifice plot and character developement in favour of angst. This story is my baby and it's worth more than that, I hope you understand :) I don't think there's anything else I desperately wanted to say...humm... Enjoy the chapter, I think it's my longest yet, and I'll get the next one on the go ASAP :)

All my love always, LadyLilyMalfoy xxxx

**_December 24__th__ 1988_**

Having done my familial duty to my parents, the earliest I could get to Malfoy Manor was Christmas Eve. As usual for that time of year, the house was vibrant with light and life, filled with an eclectic mix of friends, relatives, acquaintances, people Lucius merely wanted to show off in front off... It was the single time of the year that Lucius hosted his own party, but it was widely considered to be the most desired event to be invited to, particularly to Pure-Blooded mothers with unmarried daughters. Coincidentally, I rarely attended myself, but I had been away for so long it was worth it this once.

With a ten-foot pine tree covered from top to bottom in tiny candles in every room and house-elves dressed in tinsel, the Manor's decorations rivalled even Hogwarts'. For someone who was not naturally ebullient, Lucius could be surprisingly festive when he wanted to be. Lucius himself was surrounded by people in the middle of the ball room, many of whom I had never even seen before. I pushed my way through the throng of satin and silk, largely ignored, as usual, by the Wizarding Aristocracy. That was perfectly fine by me.

Lucius waved when he saw me and grabbed my sleeve, pulling me the rest of the way before thrusting the tiniest crystal glass into my hand. "Severus!" he greeted my brightly, unaware of the annoyed looks we were getting from those I had stolen his attention from. "Thought you were never going to make it!"

I winced as the alcohol burned through my throat. "Neither did I. Quite a gathering you have here!"

Lucius nodded proudly. "Awful isn't it?" he said with a smile. "Still, Narcissa's enjoying herself and it's only one day. Have to keep the peasants happy and all that." He shot me a wink as the dirty looks shifted from me to him.

I suppressed a smirk, reminded suddenly of the Christmas holidays of my third year when Lucius invited me to stay. The Christmas Eve party was almost identical to this and Lucius, who had always found it unbearable, spent the entire night getting me drunk, telling scandalous stories about every one of the guests and avoiding the advances of Bellatrix Black. Times had not changed much.

I nodded discreetly towards the open French windows at the back of the room. "Fancy making an escape?"

Almost wistfully, Lucius sighed but shook his head. "Unfortunately, I am in high demand tonight. However, I will not make you suffer through it when I know you could have much more engaging company."

"And where is Draco tonight?"

Lucius shrugged. "Around. I think the children are playing a game somewhere, so if you find one, you'll find the others. Good luck."

In my opinion, it was Lucius who needed the luck. I bid him farewell and made my escape.

* * *

It took a fair while to find any small people, being as well practised in the art of concealment as the previous generation. Eventually, a quick movement caught my eye- Theodore Nott darting behind a statue. I called ought to him and the mousey haired boy peered out from his hiding place, glaring at me and pressing a finger to his lips.

"What's going on?" I whispered, crouching beside Theodore. "Where's Draco?"

Theo shot me a withering look. "I can't tell you that!" he hissed back, scandalised. "We're hiding from the girls!" He cast a quick, furtive glance around the corner, then told me in a low voice that told me exactly how serious the situation was, "They've got _mistletoe._"

"Aah," I nodded understandingly. "You don't want to be caught by mistletoe."

"They've already captured Blaise," Theodore told me fearfully. "We haven't seen him since!"

"If I save him, will you tell me where Draco is?" I bargained.

Theo considered this offer, then shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid he's beyond hope. It's been at least ten minutes. But," he leaned closer, "If you swear on all that you hold dear that you will not give our positions away, I _might_ be able to reveal where Draco Malfoy is concealed."

"I think that is a fair arrangement." I held out my hand which Theodore shook with the austerity commanded by the situation. "I, Severus Snape, do swear on all that I hold dear, that I will not give any of your positions away to the girls who are armed with mistletoe."

"Very well." With another stealthy sweeping gaze, he leaned up to whisper in my ear, "_Try under the tree in the drawing room_."

I thanked him graciously, before creeping out into the hall once more.

* * *

I peered through the branches and baubles and tinsel to see two blue-grey eyes looking back at me. "Good evening Draco."

There was a scramble and a shower of pine-needles, then Draco stood up and brushed himself down before smiling up at me. "Hullo Sir."

He looked well, if a little dishevelled from the time spent beneath the tree. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you. But," his expression became suddenly very serious, "the girls have mistletoe."

"So I've heard. A very nasty business according to Theodore."

Draco nodded gravely. "They've got Blaise."

"A tragedy if ever I heard one."

"Did you bring me a present?" Draco asked suddenly, brightening. "You did promise..."

"Of course I did."

"Can I have it now?"

"No."

Draco humphed and sighed, but I could see he didn't really care. "Will you tell me about Hogwarts?"

"Tomorrow," I promised and Draco grinned, dancing from foot to foot. I wondered idly how much sugar they had managed to steal that evening.

Suddenly, the door handle turned and another voice- Gregory Goyle's- came from under the tree. "_Draco!_ _They're coming! Retreat!_"

The boys managed to conceal themselves just in time before a group of three small girls, Pansy Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters, each armed to the teeth with mistletoe, marched in and glared at me suspiciously.

Pansy stalked up to me, hands on hips. "I know they're in here," she challenged, red ribbons not detracting from her surprisingly imposing form in the slightest.

I feigned innocence, keenly aware of the vow I made with Theodore. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Brown eyes were narrowed, a very Slytherin eyebrow arched. A weaker man would have definitely been cowed.

Then, quick as a curse, the girls stormed past me and dived under the tree, ferreting the boys out like terriers. Gregory shrieked and bolted from the room with Daphne and Asteria hot on his tail, whilst Pansy cornered Draco, her branch of mistletoe held threateningly out before her. Draco's expression was half serious, half exhilarated as the advanced towards him, eyes darting to me, begging for help.

I replied with a slight shake of my head and an amused smile; this would be good practise for the future.

Draco laughed as she chased him around the room, darting around sofas and scooting under tables, but, soon, Pansy had him cornered.

They were both breathless with the excursion as the little girl advanced triumphantly. She pursed her lips as she got closer, leaning forward with clear intention. I watched Draco's smile falter as she got closer as suddenly it stopped being a game and wandered into uncomfortable territory.

The moment came and went before I had a chance to avert it; Pansy grabbed Draco's shirt in both hands, pulling him closer to claim her prize.

Sparks certainly flew, but not in the way that Pansy had been hoping for. An explosion most similar to a pistol shot reverberated from wall to wall and Pansy was thrown across the room to land in a heap of ribbon and silk, stunned.

Pansy's bottom lip quivered dangerously and I tried to rush to her side in time to extinguish the next big explosion...

"_Daddyyy_!"

As I felt my ears bleed, I cursed my inability to time anything properly that day. A banshee could not have produced a more soul curdling sound.

The door of the drawing room was flung open and Lucius appeared, closely followed by Mr Parkinson and several others, clearly- and understandably- alarmed by the bang.

Lucius stopped dead in the threshold as he felt the static residue of Draco's magic linger in the air. He stared at me questioningly, almost fearful it seemed.

Pushing his way past him, Mr Parkinson's gaze darted from his daughter, wailing on the ground, to Draco who remained still and stunned by the fireplace, before resting on me, who was feeling much guiltier than I should have.

"What on _earth_ is going on here?" he demanded sharply, pallor turning puce beneath his moustache. "What have you done to my daughter?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "_Excuse me_?"

Sensing another impending explosion, Lucius stepped in between us quickly. "I am quite sure," he said in his best diplomatic politician voice, "that there is absolutely no need for such insinuations. Clearly, the children were playing a game that simply... _got out of hand_. I expect Miss Parkinson is more shaken than hurt, don't you think?"

It seemed that Lucius was desperately trying to avoid the asking the question and the answers that would entail.

Unfortunately, rationality did not make Mr Parkinson feel any better about the situation. "My daughter has been attacked!" he thundered, arms flailing dramatically. Lucius looked as though something disgusting had just been deposited in front of him as the small man spluttered and ranted under his nose. Mr Parkinson rounded on me suddenly, jabbing me in the chest with a jewelled finger. "If it wasn't _you_," I met his glare unflinchingly, "Then it must have been _him_." The finger that had been gauging a hole in my chest was thrust in the direction of Draco. The boy didn't even seem to notice that all eyes were now focused solely on him. I had witnessed that look far too many times last summer not to recognise it.

"This is not acceptable!" Mr Parkinson was thundering at Lucius, who merely stood there with a very bored expression on his face. "This is _your_ responsibility Lucius, _deal with it!_"

Lucius did not speak for a while and, for a moment, I was sure that he would argue back in Draco's defence. But, to my absolute disappointment, his expression hardened. "Very well."

Mr Parkinson looked triumphant. I wanted to kill them both.

"It was an _accident_!" I burst out, unable to keep my silence any longer. "They are _children_! These things happen!"

He may have only come up to my nose in stature, but Mr Parkinson still struck an imposing figure as he squared up to me. "My daughter has been injured," he snarled. "That boy is out of control and needs to be taught a lesson." He looked me up and down contemptuously. "Not that it is any of your concern, _Snape_."

"Severus,"

Lucius' hand on my shoulder restrained me from either telling the odious man precisely where he could stick his lesson or breaking his bloody nose.

"Gideon," his voice was sedate as he gently pushed me out the way, "I think that you have said everything that needs to be said. Might I suggest that you look after your daughter and let me deal with Draco?"

I physically felt my blood run cold and a migraine threatened to start. We could _not_ go through this again. _I_ couldn't... I didn't have the energy, physically or emotionally, besides the fact that I had most definitely run out of options when it came to saving Draco... !

Finally persuaded to rejoin the party, Mr Parkinson picked up Pansy and stormed out, the straggle of curious guests following at Lucius' insistence.

He turned, saw my expression and sighed, "You needn't look at me like that."

I did not trust myself to speak.

Lucius glared with frustration and growled, "For _god_ sake Severus!" before stalking across the cream carpet towards Draco.

Throughout the entire exchange between Mr Parkinson and his father, Draco had not moved a centimetre. If anything, he seemed entirely oblivious to anything that had taken place at all. Even now, as Lucius approached his feet seemed rooted to the spot, eyes fixed firmly on a very particular place in the near distance.

Lucius leaned down, hands on his knees. "Draco?" he said softly.

The boy's eyes flicked up, life slowly returning.

"You need to tell me what happened."

-Confusion flickered across Draco's face. "When?" he whispered, frowning.

"Just now. Just a moment ago."

Draco paused, thinking hard. Then, hopelessly, "I don't remember."

"Severus?" He looked to me for the explanation, his concern for Draco blatant now that the others had left.

I felt my own fear wash away with relief, and, if I'm honest, more than a little guilt that I had had such little faith in Lucius. "The children were playing a game," I told him. "There was mistletoe involved. It was all fine and then-"

"I didn't mean to," Draco spoke up suddenly, shifting fretfully from foot to foot. "She was...She was going to...And I thought... And then... Like be-before..." A shadow passed across the little boy's face and he shuddered as though a ghost has swept through him.

Lucius caught Draco as he fell, drawing him quickly in and shielding him from the evil that was clearly haunting him. As Draco sobbed into his father's shoulder, I wondered if the spirit of William Southard would ever release him, or would we be fighting it off forever? I could see from his face that Lucius was as scared as Draco.

* * *

_**25**__**th**__** December 1988**_

Christmas day itself was exactly how a Christmas day ought to be; conflicted. Having stayed up long into the early hours after the last guest had departed, it had seemed a good idea at the time to consume any remaining dregs of alcohol that had happened to escape consumption during the party.

"I can't abide waste," was Lucius' ready excuse. By that point, I was too far gone to care about any justification.

However, this meant that we spent the majority of Christmas morning sprawled tragically across the sofas of the casual sitting room, nursing terrible hangovers with the curtains very much closed.

Lucius' mother, on the other hand, had _very_ different ideas of how Christmas ought to be spent and was disgusted by her son's casual attitude towards what was supposed to be a very traditional occasion. It may be of interest to here mention that Abraxas Malfoy really couldn't care less and was more than happy to be left in the company of The Daily Prophet's crossword. Like Lucius, he couldn't abide having to be companionable and would only be sociable if it was _absolutely_ necessary, which was more often than not due purely to Seraphina's cajoling.

As we lay unceremoniously in living room, looking a right sorry state, she bustled into the darkness, tutting as she swept around the room moving ornaments an inch to the left, straightening cushions that didn't need to be straightened and fussing unnecessarily- things she would never have condescended to do when she had been mistress of Malfoy Manor.

She turned her critical eyes up on us with the same expression of contempt that was so at home on Lucius' face, and then, with neither word nor warning, the curtains flew open seemingly of their own accord and bright white natural light flooded in like a burst dam, promptly blinding us in the process.

"Gaah!" we both yelled in protest, shielding our eyes against the pain now added to our already throbbing skulls.

Struggling to sit up, Lucius snarled at his mother, "What the _hell_ did you do that for?"

Mrs Malfoy regarded him coolly. "Well, if you will insist upon lazing about all day..."

"_So_?" The presence of his parents always seemed to bring out the petulant teenager in Lucius.

"So the it is _nearly_ midday, we will be _eating_ in half an hour and you look an absolute disgrace! Not to mention that your father has resorted to starting the crossword and you know how impossible it is to get him away from it once he has started!" She stormed round and smacked Lucius' legs off the sofa. "Get up at once!"

I was entirely ignored. For some reason, she seemed to find me immensely irksome and had always simply pretended that I did not exist, which Lucius seemed to find rather amusing. Sometimes, I think he only invited me to the manor in the holidays to irritate his mother.

"The _state_ you have allowed Narcissa to let this house get in..." the Malfoy matriarch continued waspishly as she waited, satin slippered foot tapping impatiently, for us to rouse ourselves. "We might as well just hand it over to the muggles and have done with it."

Lucius fought hard not to snap back, jaw clenched so tightly I'm surprised his teeth didn't break.

"_One week_," he muttered darkly as we left to make ourselves presentable. "_One damned week and I won't have to put up with them for another year..._"

I patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "But it's going to be a long one," I said helpfully.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not. You have already made a mockery this Christmas, Lucius, your father and I-"

"This has nothing to do with _me_ Seraphina."

"-will not tolerate any more of your _blatant _disregard for the traditions of this household!"

"_Mother_, it is _ridiculous_ to be eating dinner at midday! _Nobody_ is hungry, I am merely suggesting that we change the order-"

"No."

But-"

"I _said_ no!"

"With respect," Lucius ground out in a way that clearly suggested that respect had nothing to do with it, "It is _I_ who make the decisions in this house now. I know that that is hard for you to understand but _try_. Father can finish the crossword, Draco can open his presents and you can have a large sherry, then we'll all be happy, won't we?"

Draco, Narcissa and I hovered awkwardly a little way off from where the combat was taking place, Abraxas pretending to be deeply engrossed in the front page of his precious _Prophet_ so that he wouldn't be dragged into it.

Since retiring from the estate, Abraxas Malfoy had become a much more mild mannered man than he had been in Lucius' youth; whereas once he had been easier to anger than even Lucius was, now there was next to nothing that could rouse Abraxas from his perpetual state of disinterest. It seemed that, in his opinion, every responsibility he had once shouldered had now been passed on to his son (whether he thought him competent at the job or not) and, by Merlin, he was going to make the most of it. His wife, on the other hand, was much less well disposed to this concept. She refused to see him as anything other than the same flippant and irresponsible boy that he had been at fifteen when he had refused to revise for his OWLs, deeming them to be "a pointless waste of time", as he had written during his rebellious phase. She thought him too indulgent of Draco, she had always disapproved of Narcissa and as for his choice of company... Well, it didn't bear thinking about. The high standards of appearance and propriety that the Malfoy name had always commanded were falling away to nothing, as far as she could see. Which, considering the amount of pressure Lucius placed himself under trying to maintain precisely those things, wasn't very far at all.

It was times like these that I was supremely grateful that I was not born into a pure-blooded family.

With a triumphantly serene smile, Lucius turned his back on his mother and strode up to us, put an arm around a confused looking Narcissa and lead the way back into the casual sitting room with a bright, "Shall we?"

* * *

It was hard for even the bitter Seraphina not to feel the joys that Christmas can bring as, as promised, the sherry was passed around along with packages of various shapes and sizes, wrapped in different brightly coloures papers.

Lucius seemed as delighted with my gift of a box of Honeyduke's finest as Draco was with the new Comet 260 his parents had given him, and promptly began to spoil his appetite within seconds of unwrapping it. For Narcissa, I had wondered hopelessly around Hogsmeade for several bitterly cold hours before swallowing my pride and asking for assistance from the very amiable assistants in Gladrags Wizardwear, who sourced for me a scarf made of a beautiful fairy-made cloth which was so fine it felt like some but still kept your neck perfectly warm.

From the Malfoys, I received a set of handsome leather-bound journals of varying size with my initials embossed in silver on the spine of each book. "For all the notes you are constantly scribbling and then losing," Lucius explained. "You have no excuse now."

"My turn!" Draco bounced up, the incident of last night forgotten as quickly as it had come. He was almost dancing with excited anticipation. "_Please_!" he added after a 'look' from his grandmother.

"Since you have been so patient," I laughed, reaching behind my back before handing the present to Draco. There was no pretence at carefulness; the paper was torn to shreds as I watched him, praying that I had chosen the right thing. But, really, I knew that I had. I had known what to buy Draco for Christmas ever since September.

I had not been mistaken.

The adults winced, myself included, as Draco shrieked with joy, bouncing like a billiwig. "_Thankyouthankyouthankyou!_"

I hugged him tight as he sprang happily at me, the green and grey scarf flung around both our necks. "Happy Christmas, Dragon."

I was unaware, at that point, the filthy look I was getting from Lucius.


	47. Part Seven 3

A/N:Happy Belated New Year! I nearly this chapter in December, but it's been a stupidly chaotic few weeks so yesterday was the only time I had to finish it :P Also, it was planned to be longer, but I have a lot to muse over for the next one so I thought I'd give you this in the mean time :) Also, you might be interested to know that I have plans for a sequal that will probably take me until I'm fifty to write...Strange to think that next year I'll have been writing this fic for a third of my life :P I'm quite excited about my plans for the next one but I'm going to do some experimenting at some point to find my feet...Anyhow, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Oh, a quick shout out to Meg for the lovely review! Thank you supremely! It made my day :D

* * *

"What. The. _Hell_?" hissed Lucius, grabbing a hold of my arm and dragging me aside on the way to the dining room, practically steaming with fury.

I quite honestly had no idea what he was talking about and I told him as much, jerking my arm indignantly out of his grip.

He was not at all convinced. "The scarf, Severus. The _Hogwarts_ scarf."

I shrugged innocently. "It is just a scarf, Lucius, not a jibe at you! I just thought that Draco would like it as a souvenir."

"_Look_," Lucius seethed. "I am having trouble enough as it is persuading Draco to revise for te Durmstrang exam without _you_ filling his head with fantasies of Hogwarts!"

Sighing, I apologised sincerely. "I'm sorry. It was not meant vindictively. I merely thought, since Draco isn't going to Hogwarts, he should have at least a little piece of heritage from his family's past. Besides," I added with a wry smile, "if I had _meant_ to piss you off, I'd have bought him a Gryffindor scarf."

Despite his best efforts, Lucius' expression softened, although his mouth was still set into a single, unamused line. "Just try not to encourage him," the 'please' was unspoken but clear nonetheless.

"But, it isn't as though Draco actually has any real say in the matter, is it?" I said, having agreed to Lucius' request.

"Theoretically," Lucius sighed. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, if Draco has his mind set on something, mot even _I_ can make him do it."

I fought hard not let my pride in my godson show.

Just before we reached the dining room, Lucius stopped me again, much less forthcoming this time.

"What?" I prompted.

Lucius hesitated, then looked away before saying softly, "I'm thinking about having Draco see someone."

I frowned, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"About..." he struggled with the words. "About what happened last night."

My eyebrows promptly shot up in surprise. "You mean like a psychologist?"

A helpless shrug. "Perhaps. I don't know... Do you think it would help? I just don't think that this is something that Draco can deal with by himself, and I just don't know how to."

It must have killed him to admit it.

I nodded, gripping Lucius' shoulder briefly. "It certainly can't hurt to try. Will you take Draco to London, or have someone come here?"

"I have no idea," admitted Lucius wearily. "All I know is that we simply cannot have a repeat of last night and, left to its own devices, this is not something that will just go away."

"You'll let me know how it goes?" I asked. "Or if you need me to do anything?"

"Of course." He paused suddenly, on the brink of a thought, then, hesitantly, "Does Madam Pomfrey still work at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, she's still there."

"Humm..."

"You think she could help?" I pressed keenly.

"Well," Lucius said slowly, as though testing the ground with his words. "She's used to dealing with all sorts, isn't she? She's discreet and, as Draco won't be going to school there, it wouldn't matter that she knows." He looked at me, anxiously seeking my approval. "Well? What do you think?"

"I think that that could be a very good solution. Do you want _me_ to ask?"

"Yes...But don't say much about it. Just say...Just that it is quite important."

'_Quite important'_. Well, I suppose that's one way of describing it...

"Okay," I agreed. "As soon as I return, I'll speak to her on your behalf."

Lucius gave me a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Mrs Malfoy decided to choose that moment to storm out of the dining room and glare at us. "What on _earth _are you doing? Everyone is waiting for you!"

After days of persistent tolerance, Lucius' patience with his mother finally snapped. "That is _none_ of your business," he snarled in her face. "And, to be perfectly honest, nor is anything else! The one and _only_ reason I am putting up with you is because it is Christmas and I don't want it ruined for _my_ family!" He sneered his very best Malfoy sneer. "But, as ever, you seem to be doing a perfectly good job on your own." He jerked his head in my direction, "Come on Sev," before shoving his way past his stunned mother.

* * *

"Tell me about Hogwarts," came the inevitable request late into Christmas Day evening.

Having spent over twenty-four hours in the company of people, I had finally retreated to the library to be with myself for a while. But Draco sought me out easily, having been wise enough and patient enough not to ask in the presence of his family. Although his father had not said anything about the scarf directly to him, Draco was attuned to Lucius' disposition enough to know that the ambience had shifted considerably since he had opened his present.

And so, he had waited for an opportunity before begging me to make good my promise.

"Tell me about Hogwarts!"

I put my book down and looked at his eager face doubtfully. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Dragon?"

Draco's expression faltered. "You _promised_ you would..." he reminded me with just a tinge of reproach.

"I know I did." I pulled him down into the chair beside me. "But don't you think it's just going to make it harder for you to accept that you aren't going?"

Draco pondered this silently, sullenly, fiddling absently with the green fronds of his scarf. "It's not _fair_," he muttered finally. "Everyone else is going, they were all talking about it last night, and I'm going to miss out! I don't understand why..." He sat, stiff and angry, smouldering with the unjustness of it.

"You won't be missing out," I told him, hoping that I sounded sincere. "It'll just be different, that's all. But you'll have just as good a time at Durmstrang as you would at Hogwarts. I'm sure of it."

Draco made an unconvinced growling sound at the back of his throat. "Then why are none of the others going? Why is it only me?"

I had no answer to that.

"Your father would not be making you do this unless he was absolutely certain that it was the right thing." Draco looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You will just have to have faith in him, Draco."

The boy sighed deeply, "I suppose so... Tell me about it anyway?" he asked hopefully. "Just so's I can have a pretend. I won't be difficult for Father," he added quickly.

I looked down at my godson in his Slytherin scarf wrapped four or five times around his neck and, against my better judgement, I did what I have always done; I gave him a glimmer of something wonderful that he would never know.

"Well," I began as Draco snuggled into the crook of my arm, leaning into me, "Long before you even get there, you can see the castle high up on the cliff top, with a thousand windows looking out over a black lake and the forbidden forest," Draco closed his eyes, fiercely devouring every word, committing it to memory for future imaginings. "The castle is the biggest you will have ever seen, your house could fit inside it at least ten times, with hundreds of people all living there. You cannot walk down a single corridor without meeting someone you know."

I talked for what must have been hours, describing to Draco what it is like to walk through the main doors for the very first time, to see the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall and to get lost in the maze of moving staircases. "They still confuse me, even now." I spoke of Quidditch and of Hogsmede, of butter-beer and pumpkin juice; I told him about the acromantula of the Forbidden Forest and of the army of house-elves in the cavernous kitchens, and Draco listened, enraptured, to everything I said.

For a while, it seemed, it did not matter that he would never experience Hogwarts for himself because, at that moment, he was there.

* * *

To his credit, Draco did not wear the scarf in his father's company for the remainder of the holidays. This was certainly relieving as the mere presence of his parents was stretching Lucius' already thin patience to its absolute limit, and I don't think Draco would have been able to survive unscathed had he contributed in any small part to his father's irritation.

Lucius himself was counting down the days, hours and minutes until his parents left to go back to the Lake District for another fifty-two weeks. He seemed to be under the impression that, because they were there, the rest of them couldn't get on and do what they would normally be doing; there was a growing mountain of paperwork sitting threateningly on his desk, Draco's education was on standby and Narcissa... Well, Narcissa drifted about the Manor in the same whimsical fashion as she always had- happy in her own world and oblivious to anything and everyone beyond it.

Even I was feeling cooped up and very much looking forward to my return to work; as welcome as the break had been, I was getting restless and bored, but felt it my duty as Lucius' ally to stay and counteract his mother's constant spurns on his character, which had become sharper and more vicious since Lucius had, effectively, told her to butt out of his business.

"Maybe if you shout at her more, she'll leave," I offered helpfully after Seraphina had cast some nasty aspersions on the state of the upstairs carpets and Lucius had stormed out of the manor in what could only be described accurately as a huff.

"As much as I dearly wish to," muttered Lucius with a frustrated sincerity, kicking gravel and clearly relishing the scuff it made on his shoes, "but it's just not what's done."

The sun was low in the sky, but what little white light there was reflected off the frost coating the estate, lighting the garden like it were the setting of a Christmas card. The air was perfectly chilled, so crisp and fresh that it felt almost brittle, as though any sudden movement could snap it; the only softness came from the steam rising from us as we walked to nowhere in particular- a welcome assurance that we were alive in a world that seemed, at that moment, so completely dead.

As we trudged on, I could see Lucius growing increasingly anxious as thoughts tumbled about his head with growing momentum. He stopped suddenly and turned towards me, looking strikingly like Draco when nervous. "What if..." he started hesitantly, "What if Draco feels like this about me and Cissa in the future?" He searched my face, as though I were able to provide the answer to his half-asked question.

But how was I supposed to respond to that? "What if?" I said lamely.

Lucius shot me a withering glare before lowering his gaze and kicking more gravel around.

"It's not the same," I offered, trying to redeem myself.

Hope flashed across his expression. "You think so?"

I hesitated before diplomatically replying, "I hope so."

"I suppose that'll have to do," he sighed, worry creasing his brow. "I am trying..."

"And Draco knows that. He appreciates that more than he will ever tell you."

Lucius nodded unhappily and continued on across the garden, clearly not convinced by my reassurance.

* * *

_**5**__**th**__** January 1989**_

"Severus, I _cannot_ agree to give treatment to a child if I do not know what it is I am supposed to be treating!" Madam Pomfrey told me shortly, not shifting her attention from her task of reorganising the jars on her shelves for a moment. "It's completely unethical! Besides which, I do not know why whoever it is cannot go to St Mungos like everyone else. I am not a mediwitch and I do _not do callouts_!"

"It's _delicate_," I explained uselessly to her back as she clambered up as small step ladder and rummaged about on the highest shelves. "It's not something they want publicised..."

"If it's anything to do with eyes or teeth," she turned to shake a warning finger at me, "I don't want to hear it. The amount of times I have parents begging me to fix bloody eyes and teeth because they couldn't be bothered to do it at the proper time..." She humphed and returned to rattling jars. "_Let_ their children wear glasses so everyone knows how irresponsible they have been, that's what _I_ say!"

"It's not that," I muttered, feeling defensive, although these were things that Lucius would have to confront in the not-so-distant future. "I don't even know if there _is _anything you can do to help, but it's important. Anything at all that can be done that has even the slightest chance of helping, with as little fuss as possible..." I was desperate for her to agree, would have quite possibly done anything for her to say yes to my strange request. "Please."

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Severus," Madam Pomfrey told me, looking down from the top of her ladder. "It is most irregular and before I agree to anything, I would have to speak to the headmaster first. And _they_ would have to come _here_. And _only_ when it is convenient for _me_." She fixed me with a stern eye. "_And_, if I were to say yes, which I'm not saying I am, it would be on the express condition that you would to a better job of supplying my medicines than Professor Slughorn did, you understand?"

I could have kissed her. But I didn't. I knew it would be difficult to persuade Lucius to allow Draco to come to Hogwarts, but not impossible. And if this could help Draco in any small way, it would be worth it.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know it was very long or massively exciting, but the next part really has to stand alone and this was really a set up for that :P I have a lot of bits of the next one, but they need stitching together and I'm dithering over to include some bits I've planned or leave them out for later so I have a lot to ponder...


	48. Part Seven 4

_**14**__**th**__** January 1989**_

Despite the whole situation having been his idea, the clauses that Madam Pomfrey insisted upon had been met without enthusiasm, particularly the requirement that Draco must come to Hogwarts. '_I am not at all happy with this,'_ was the phrase repeated a countless number of times throughout early January. _'Besides the fact that Draco has been neglecting his studies enough as it is over the holidays, you fully aware of how impressionable he is and if I allow him to visit Hogwarts...' _and so on and so forth. But I knew it would only be a matter of time until he came around to the idea; even his pride was not enough to overshadow the fact that this was undeniably too good an opportunity to let go.

However, as much as I tried to convince him of the benefits of accompanying Draco to Hogwarts, Lucius was adamant that it would be impossible for him to take any more time off work so soon after Christmas and so I met Draco out of the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks early Friday morning alone.

He greeted me with a sooty scowl, tired and irritable after his journey through Britain's filthy floo network. He did _not_ look happy to be here.

As we had several hours before Madam Pomfrey was able to see us, I treated Draco to his first butterbeer in an attempt to improve his mood.

"So, are you looking forward to seeing Hogwarts?"

Draco scowled into his untouched glass and shrugged sullenly.

"Not even slightly?" I pressed uselessly, feeling more than slight disappointed at my godson's lack of enthusiasm. "I thought, perhaps, you might be-"

"_Excited_?" the contempt in his voice made him sound more like his father than ever before. He glared at me. "I _know_ why I'm here, you know!"

Sobered by this reminder, I looked away, ashamed that I had almost forgotten the purpose of Draco's visit myself. "Of course. Forgive me."

"I don't see the point," he muttered furiously. "I don't _need_ to talk..."

"You don't think it'll help?" I asked, feeling my own mood deflating, "To get it out of your head, I mean?"

Draco shot me a withering look. "No. I don't. And it _won't_ get it out of my head, will it? It'll just mean that I have to _think_ about it and _talk_ about it and I _don't want to_. I _don't_ see the point!"

Even as we walked through the main doors of the castle, Draco obstinately refused to look up from the ground. He followed me silently through the halls and up the maze of stairs, determinedly keeping his eyes fixed upon his feet. With each step we took towards the hospital wing I could feel Draco becoming more and more tense and unyielding; I prayed that Madam Pomfrey would, somehow, be able to reach him through the barricade that the boy had been constructing around him for the last seven months. Merlin knows where we would go from here otherwise.

Thankfully, we past very few people on our way; the time of day was such that most of the occupants of Hogwarts were busy in class or marking or Quidditch and, as such, were not loitering around the halls as they might have been.

The overpowering smell of disinfectant greeted us long before we reached the ward, no matter how many times I visited it, it still made me wince. By this point, I just wanted to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. My own disappointment and Draco's determined petulance was beginning to grate on my nerves and so, when I sensed him stop in his tracks behind me, I was in little mood to humour him.

I turned and fixed him with my very best 'I-am-the-teacher-you-will-do-as-I-say' look. "Draco, come on."

Draco raised his chin haughtily and folded his arms across his chest with an equally as good 'try-it-I-dare-you' look.

"We do _not_ have time for this."

He took one step back as I took one step forward.

"Draco, please-"

My insistence was met with a stony glare.

It was as much as I could do to refrain from grabbing his arm and marching him the rest of the way. I had a feeling that would be counterproductive. "_Look_," I ground out, "everyone involved is giving up their own time for this, to help _you_. The least you can do-"

"I never _asked_ you to," came the inevitable rebuke. "And if it were _that_ important, Father would be here."

"It wouldn't make a difference if he was. This is about _you_."

Draco stiffened with anger, hatred almost physically radiating from his small body.

The intensity of his sudden hostility confused me greatly; I had known that this was going to be a difficult thing for Draco to have to deal with but, as far as I was aware, I had done nothing to provoke such animosity from my godson. And yet, I was unfortunately familiar enough with Draco's feral side to know that, were I to provoke him further, I would there would be no hope of progression.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, to calm my own temper and regain control of the situation. Then, as patiently as I could manage, "Draco, please. This is to _help_. This is to make life _easier_. You need to trust me. Do you understand?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid," Draco snarled, in no way appeased. "I know exactly why you and Father wanted me here and it's _not_ to help me! I'm _not stupid_!"

I stared at him, bewildered. "What?"

"The only reason you and Father want me to do this," said Draco stiffly, hands clenched into fists by his side, "is because you both still feel _guilty_ because it's all your fault! You didn't help when you should've, so you're trying to make up for it now because you feel _guilty_! It doesn't matter that it's too late, that you're just making it worse! You don't care, you and Father, what I think because you never have! All that matters is that you don't want to feel bad about it anymore! Well," he finished with a sneer, "I'm not doing it, because you _should. _You _should _feel guilty because it's _all your fault_!"

I was, quite literally, struck dumb. Was it wrong that the thought of guilt had never really occurred to me? As far as I was concerned, it had happened, it had been beyond my control and I had done my best to rectify the situation as quickly and as effectively as I could. Throughout the entirety of last summer, my intentions had always been completely sincere and, for that reason, I had never considered the fact that Draco might be holding a grudge against me.

"And I know that's why Father's trying to be better too," continued Draco bitterly. "And why you came back after you left. No matter what your mother says, or anyone. I'm not stupid."

"I left because it was the best thing to do," I said slowly, considering each word carefully before it left my lips. "And I came back for the same reason. Everyone makes mistakes Draco, your father and I included. You cannot hate us for trying to fix what we've done wrong."

"_It shouldn't have happened! You shouldn't have let it! _You should've helped _then_ but you didn't and now it's too late!_"_

I opened my mouth to reply, although what I would have said I have no idea- something completely useless, probably- but, thankfully, we were interrupted.

Disturbed by the commotion we were causing, Madam Pomfrey had been drawn out of the hospital wing.

"What in Merlin's name is going on out here?" she demanded, glaring indignantly between us before landing solely on me. "Severus, this _is_ a hospital wing, there _are _people trying to recover in here!"

I apologised profusely, my head ringing with the stress that this day was causing. "This is Draco Malfoy," I told her wearily, gesturing to the angry young boy standing a few feet away, still smouldering. "Mr Malfoy sends his apologies but-"

"He's too busy," Draco interjected coldly. "There are more important things to do today."

She looked disapprovingly at me, as though somehow it were my fault that Lucius was not here. "Never mind. Given the little of the argument I heard between the two of you, I would like to begin by talking to Draco alone." She turned her attention to him, "If that's okay with you?"

Clearly a little disorientated by being asked his opinion, Draco did not dismiss her suggestion immediately as I had expected him to. Instead, he considered it for a few moments and, as he did so, I saw a little of the tension he had been holding onto subside. Finally, he gave a slight nod of consent.

Relief.

I was effectively sent to my room on Madam Pomfrey's promise to send for me when they were done. Draco stalked past me without a second glance as he followed her through to her office at the end of the hospital wing.

* * *

I had hoped that, somehow, Draco's mood would have been improved by the time his appointment with Madam Pomfrey was over.

No such luck.

He was as sullen and his gait as heavy as it has been two hours ago; eyes fixed stubbornly on his patent black shoes, his silent fury had in no way been diminished. Madam Pomfrey offered me nothing in the way of reassurance either; lips drawn into a single thin line, the eyes behind her spectacles were troubled as she beckoned me to her.

"Severus, I will need to speak to both you and mr Malfoy separately before any sort of conclusion can be reached. I have written to him and he is arriving first thing tomorrow morning." She lowered her voice before continuing, "What _has_ been made clear to me, is that this goes much deeper than I think anyone realised. This is not simply Draco's problem, there are clearly a lot of issues that you need to address in yourself before you can have any hope of helping Draco with his."

I nodded, dumb, her words not making a great deal of sense in my head.

Behind me, Draco had perched himself in my high-backed char, a large volume of Oscar Wilde's Complete Works balanced precariously in his lap.

"If you could come with me now, Severus?"

I looked at her blankly. "Now?"

"Now. He needs some time to himself and it would be better to do this sooner rather than later."

I glanced reluctantly at my godson; I felt an overwhelming need to talk with him properly, to sort _us_ out before I could even think about sorting myself out.

I felt a hand on my arm. "Now is not the time. Come on. He'll be fine on his own."

Feeling more confused than ever, I allowed her to lead me away from my rooms to look for answers to questions I had no idea existed.

* * *

A/N: Still struggling :P This part just sort of sprung upon me and I'm trying to work out where it's heading... So thought I'd give you this as I go because it's still being worked out in my head and I don't know how long that's going to take. We shall see :) Hope you enjoyed it!

Love Lily xxx


	49. Part Seven 5

I followed Poppy Pomfrey solemnly back along the halls between my study and her's, my stomach twisting painfully with nerves. No doubt Draco had repeated the resentments I had only just learned that he was harbouring towards me, no doubt she had been able coax the entire sorry story from the boy's lips - her easy way with the young was, of course, the very reason we there now - and no doubt, in her eyes, I was far from the hero of the tale. From an objective point of view, I would go so far as to say I was on par with Lucius as far as war crimes and wrong-doings went. Hardly a fair conclusion, I would like to add, but a logical one none the less.

"Is there anything that can be done?" I asked, half a moment after the door had closed to grant us our privacy. "Is there anything you can do for him?" We remained standing, the two chairs set formally out for our meeting forgotten in my impatience for information. The Hogwarts matron was our one and final hope: for closure from the godawful business with Southard, for hope for Draco, and for our own undeserved salvation. Draco had been right - of course he had - we were doing this, Lucius and I, for ourselves, in the desperate hope that forcing the issue would result in redemption. Whether this ended in success of failure, it was almost irrelevant - our mantra, the shield for us to quail behind, of We Did What We Could was bitterly honest.

Poppy sighed deeply and raised a hand as though to run a fretful hand through her hair, but let it flop back to her side. The sight of the staunch nurse appearing so ruffled worried me desperately. I had been certain - a hundred percent at the very least - that she would come through for us. She shook her head and gave the tiniest, sorriest of shrugs with a softly reprimanding, "You've left it very late, Severus."

The lump of nervousness dissolved into a sickening liquid that pooled and set in the pit of my stomach. "Too late?" I just about managed to get out, feeling blindly for the arm of a chair to lower myself into as my legs liquidised beneath me.

"For the most part, yes. Had you come to me three months ago or - Merlin forbid - done what ought to have been done straight away, it would almost have been a simple procedure. As it is..."

"But there must be something?" I didn't care that I was begging; if there was ever a time when something was worth begging for, it was this. "Please! A...a drug, or anything-"

Poppy's eyes narrowed coolly, her arms weaving into a critical fold across her chest. "As I told you," she said tersely. "If you had done what you ought to have done a the proper time, there would be many more options available to Draco. What on earth possessed you to keep it hidden, Severus?" I ducked my head as shame seared into me. "You are not a stupid man," she continued angrily. "Surely, surely, you must have been aware of the consequences of not treating such a wound straight away? You must have known how it would fester?" Her voice was imploring now, beseeching me to give her a valid reason for my irresponsibility. But there was none. It had simply been a matter of not thinking. I kept my eyes on the ground and my lips pressed together like the guilty child I felt transformed into, with nothing worthy to say.

With a low, disgusted sound, Madame Pomfrey moved around me and took up her seat by her desk, making it quite plain that I had exhausted my time to speak with her as a friend and that we were now in a strictly professional capacity.

"There is a single option left," she told me stiffly. "It is by no means guaranteed to work, but at this point it is far and beyond the only thing that even has a chance. In any other circumstance I wouldn't even suggest it - it is painful, damaging and most definitely a last resort - I would much rather suggest palliative care, something gentle and non-invasive that would help Draco learn to live with what he has suffered through, but it is quite clear to me that that is not a valid option for the boy."

I forced myself to raise my head and face the contemptuous glare I was being shot, wishing more than anything that I could promise the peace and quiet to Draco that she wanted to prescribe him. Even at his very best, even in his most congenial fatherly state, I could not forsee Lucius dedicating himself single mindedly to his son's recovery. "What is it, this option? What does it entail?"

`"It's an extraction," she said with an air of enormous gravity, steepling her fingers before her. "A complete extraction of the memory, leaving no trace behind. As one would a rotten tooth."

"But this had so much leading directly up to it," I said, frowning, not quite understanding. "And so many consequences. To remove it in its entirety would be-"

"Bordering impossible, yes I know." Poppy sighed again, a vein in her temple throbbing visibly. "But it is the only physical remedy I can suggest. As I say, it is incredibly invasive and I can not in good conscience recommend it, per say, but..." She dropped her gaze suddenly, guiltily, "Draco has already asked for it, begged for it even. He believes that if he forgets, and if everybody behaves as though it never happened, it will be equal to it never happening at all. For all concerned," she added with a pointed look in my direction.

Dismayed, I shook my head and closed my eyes. "Get it out!" I could imagine Draco pleading with her. "I just want it out! I just want to everything to go back to how it was before!"

Before I came and ruined any semblance of equilibrium that existed in the Malfoy household.

"I suppose I have no right to an opinion in the matter?" I asked dully, looking very much forward to the bottle of muggle paracetamol I kept in my bedside drawer. "It will be Lucius who signs the paperwork."

"It will," Poppy agreed. Then, to my surprise, her face softened as she continued. "But you love Draco, as much as the most devoted father could, and that counts for a lot, Severus, even if not on paper. Continue to do that and nobody can fault you. Especially that boy. Children don't need much, and if Draco knows he has you on his side, he is far luckier than half the children that come through there doors." She shot me a rueful smile as she rose, indicating the culmination of our short meeting. "And don't you forget it, Severus Snape."

* * *

Draco's smouldering fury had subsided almost to the point of nonexistence by the time I came to return. Perched on the edge of a chair and half slumped across my desk, he turned abruptly at the sound of my arrival; as ever, acutely aware of any and every movement outside of himself - the advantage of the perpetual victim.

Lingering by the door, still not certain which kind of welcome I would receive from my highly volatile godson, and offered a small smile. "Hi."

Draco regarded me with equal uncertainty. "Hi."

"You okay?"

He nodded unconvincingly, sucking in his bottom lip. "Mmmhmm."

I struggled to know how to begin, what to even say that might do some good, that wouldn't be misconstrued as empty, placating words. Draco's eyes were wide and staring as he waited for me to say something that would make everything okay and fix the rift that had cracked between us. He wanted to go back, to how things were before they had been blown up and complicated beyond redemption.

Inspiration never came and I watched, despising myself, as with every word I couldn't speak, the coldness began to harden Draco's countenance once more.

I stopped thinking and allowed myself to go into automatic. It took three strides to be by Draco's side and half a moment until his lithe body was wrapped securely up in my arms, his head nestled in the safe place in the crook of my neck. I hummed a low, tuneless melody as I held him, one which reverberated deep in my chest, and gradually I felt the tension give way to the softness I remembered from he beginning. His arm curled around mine, holding on tight as he burrowed deeper, seeking out the affection he had been so afraid of for so long.

His hair was still baby-soft where I rested my chin, and if I closed my eyes I could easily make-believe that we were still in the rooms of Malfoy Manor that had once been mine, reading together before dinner, or talking through the strange ways of the world in the middle of the night when a worry would have Draco knocking cautiously on my door. It was almost as though we had returned to our own kind of normal.

Perhaps we could. Perhaps some things truly are best forgotten. Perhaps.


End file.
